


The Donut Dilemma

by DestielDicksAreMyKink



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baker Castiel (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, Dean Winchester Being an Idiot, Dean is Tempted by a Maple Bar, Dean loves his pie, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending Because I'm a Softy, M/M, Male Slash, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Rub A Dub Dub Dick Time, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spooning, Unsubtle Donuts, cum as lube, dean is the little spoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-24 18:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielDicksAreMyKink/pseuds/DestielDicksAreMyKink
Summary: Dean and Cas are roommates and best friends, the perfect setup. Or, it would be, if Dean could just get rid of the confusing attraction he's feeling for him. The last thing he needs is to stumble into Cas' room while he's engaging in some quality alone time...





	1. The Jerk Off Disaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DestinationDestiel (KyloTrashForever)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/gifts).



> To [DestinationDestiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/DestinationDestiel) \- I know I said I wasn't going to do this and I'm not even sure what happened but... here you go. Happy Valentine's Day, have some Destiel dick action haha! For real though, I'm thrilled to have a Destiel shipper friend who I can scream at now <3 hope you like this! 
> 
> And huge thanks to my lovely beta, [LoveofEscapsism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism), who has been the voice of evil, encouraging me to do this every step of the way and supporting all of my dumb ideas <3

“Scoot over, will you?” Dean huffed, nudging Cas’ knee with his own as he tried to sit down on their squashy couch, a plate of pie in one hand, gaze locked on the TV. 

He could  _ hear _ Cas rolling his eyes at him, moving over to make room. “You’ve seen this episode like ten times already.”

“That’s because it’s a great one,” Dean responded around a mouthful of cherry pie, groaning at the taste. Cas’ pie making abilities were almost unholy but damn, Dean couldn’t complain. Not when he got all the free pie he wanted, assuming Cas had any leftover to bring home from the bakery. “Deny it all you want, you live for our Dr. Sexy marathons. No one can resist his luscious hair, or those cowboy boots... maybe I should get a pair,” he mused.

Cas let out a low laugh. “Please don’t. You’d never pull them off as well as him, and I’d have to be seen in public with you wearing them.”

Ignoring him, Dean shoveled more pie into his mouth and watched as Dr. Sexy pushed a nurse against the elevator wall, kissing her dramatically as the music swelled. Cas could pretend he didn’t like the show as much as he wanted, but Dean could see that his eyes were glued to the screen as well.

“You think Dr. Piccolo is going to find out?” Dean asked, gesturing to the screen where he now had the nurse’s leg hiked up around his waist.

Cas gave him an incredulous look. “You’ve seen this season at least  _ five times.  _ You know that she finds out in the next episode.”

“Well, I’m not thinking about that while I’m watching it, am I?” Dean shot back. “How do you think I’m able to rewatch this so much… that’s the secret. You’ve gotta not think about anything except the episode you’re on and it’s like watching it for the first time again.”

There was a long pause and then Cas shook his head, looking like he was holding back laughter. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Shifting on the couch to face him, Dean arched an eyebrow. “Hey, you’re the one who keeps coming out here to watch with me. Why even rewatch if it bothers you so much?”

It was true. A few weeks after Cas had moved in, he’d started hanging out with Dean in the living room in the evenings while he was watching his show. At first he’d just sat out here with a book, seemingly just happy for the company, but slowly it had morphed into him asking questions about Dr. Sexy, until at some point, Dean can’t even remember when it first happened, he was on the couch with him, munching on popcorn and pie and binging hours of the show.

Cas looked away, pink blooming on his cheeks. Dean watched, completely transfixed as his friend, clearly flustered, struggled to answer what had been an innocent question.

“Okay, fine, I’ll admit it,” Cas mumbled, and Dean’s heart gave a painful  _ thump _ in his chest. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so nervous. “I have a crush on Dr. Sexy.”

A laugh burst out of him, part relieved and part disappointed. “Dude, everyone who watches this show has a crush on him. That’s the point of him. Besides,” he teased, mouth going slightly dry, “just because you’d actually do him doesn’t mean your crush is bigger than mine.”

Cas had never kept that fact that he was gay a secret, actually telling Dean about it the day they’d met, like a disclaimer, a warning label of sorts. It had bothered Dean that he’d clearly expected a level of discomfort, so he’d just told him that if he brought guys over, to keep it in his room while he was home, and no kinky shit on the couch when he wasn’t.

The huge, slightly surprised smile that Cas had given him made Dean feel like he’d been whacked over the head with something heavy.

It wasn’t that Dean had been raised to be open and accepting of all sexual orientations, because anyone who’d met his dad would be able to tell immediately that that wasn’t the case, but he’d known too many people in his life to judge on such things. Hell, his other best friend, Charlie, was probably going to pop the question to her girlfriend any day, and he loved her so much that it scared him sometimes. 

“I would never presume to love Dr. Sexy more than you,” Cas said seriously. “I know I’d come home the next day to find my stuff on the street.”

“Damn straight you would.” Dean grinned.

They went back to watching the show for a minute, Dr. Sexy’s deep voice filling the silence between them as he explained to a very attractive patient that she only had a week to live and should start making the most of it. 

“Maybe,” Cas suddenly said, voice quiet, “I just like spending time with you.”

Dean kept his gaze fixed on the screen for a second, willing his face to not go red, his throat to not constrict with panic at his friend’s words. It was sweet and harmless, he told himself. Didn’t mean anything.

“Don’t get all mushy on me, man,” Dean teased, internally wincing at how the casual tone of his voice sounded just a bit  _ too _ forced. So he just turned to meet Cas’ bright blue eyes, hoping he couldn’t see everything written out on his face. “I like spending time with you too. You’re my best friend and the only person willing to watch this show with me.”

Cas nodded, but he was searching Dean’s face like he was looking for something. It scared him sometimes, the thought of how easily Cas could read him.

“Okay, okay,” Dean said quickly, turning back to the TV. “No more chick flick moments, Dr. Sexy’s about to get it on with this patient.”

Cas didn’t say anything, just adjusted on the couch so he was back in his original position, the inches between their bodies suddenly feeling like miles.

The episode ended a few minutes later and Dean grabbed the remote, immediately starting the next one, grinning at Cas’s exasperated but fond huff. 

“One more,” he told Dean, using his stern voice that always made Dean’s stomach lurch a little strangely. “But you’re sharing that pie.” He stood to go grab a fork, running a hand through his dark hair, shirt lifting slightly with the movement to reveal a strip of golden skin.

Dean averted his eyes, shifting on the couch.

Cas headed for the kitchen, rummaging around as the opening played, returning to the couch a minute later with a fork and a can of whipped cream. He leaned over to spray a mountain on what was left of the slice of pie, letting out a little sound of anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, Dean said, “Man, I don’t know how you aren’t sick of pie yet.

His friend just shrugged, taking a forkful of what looked like just whipped cream. “You can’t really make pie all day if you don’t like it. Besides, this might be one of my best yet.”

Dean couldn’t disagree, though he found that he wasn’t hungry anymore, unable to stop himself from watching Cas out of the corner of his eye as he licked whipped cream from the prongs of his fork, pink lips curled in a lazy grin as he went in for another piece.

He forced himself to focus on the screen, willing his mind to just  _ stop. _

When he’d decided to put out an ad for a roommate a few months ago, he’d braced himself for some real weirdos to respond, knowing that he was playing with fire. But he’d been desperate after his landlord raised his rent, too comfortable and content with his place to consider moving. And he’d had that second bedroom that had just been collecting dust. 

And yeah, he wasn’t going to lie, part of the reason he’d accepted Cas when he’d shown up to see the place, messy dark hair, blue eyes crinkling in the corners when he smiled and introduced himself, was just because he was the first person who actually seemed normal enough to live with. They laughed about it now, Cas always finding it hilarious to hear about the other applicants, but that was the truth.

Dean had never expected that he and Cas would fall into an easy, unexpected friendship and become best friends. 

And he  _ never  _ expected that as the months went on, he’d come to feel a weird sort of... attraction to his friend. 

_ Attraction.  _ He hated that word, all of the implications that came with it. It wasn’t that he was gay, he told himself firmly whenever his gaze would linger a little too long or a weird urge would wash over him, an urge to run a hand through Cas’ hair or brush his fingers along the dips of his hip bones. 

No, he definitely wasn’t gay. But he was human and there was no denying that his friend was attractive. That’s all there was too it; a simple, uncomplicated if inconvenient attraction. Cas was just a pretty guy and Dean wasn’t blind.

It didn’t make these last few months any less difficult though. The inappropriate thoughts hitting him out of nowhere, and he knew that Cas noticed it sometimes, his prolonged pauses or cutting off mid-sentence. Thankfully, he had yet to bring it up, the thought of  _ that _ conversation never failing to make Dean’s face turn crimson.

“ _ Dean.”  _ The sound of his name snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned to Cas, who had a curious expression on his face. He’d obviously been trying to get his attention for a minute.

“Sorry, I spaced out there for a second. What’s up?”

Cas cocked his head to the side slightly, a habit of his that never failed to look slightly ridiculous and a little cute, if he was being honest. “I asked if you’re going to eat any more of the pie?” 

Shaking his head, Dean passed the plate over. “Nah, I’m good, help yourself.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched their show, despite the distracting sounds that Cas was making as he ate, soft moans and noises of pleasure that sent Dean’s brain straight to the gutter. And when he dragged his finger through the leftover whipped cream on the plate, sucking it off, his pink tongue peeking out, Dean had to forcibly start thinking about the cars that were waiting for him in the shop for tomorrow, just to slow down his racing heart.

It wasn’t just that though, it was everything about his friend that had been driving him mad lately. The curve where his neck met his shoulder, a stray strand of his unruly hair falling across his forehead, the swell of his biceps in his tight shirt… these were all things that he had no right to notice about his friend, let alone get all flustered over, but here he was, imagining how firm Cas’ thigh would be beneath his hand, how his skin would taste if Dean leaned over and licked a line up his throat.

Something was seriously fucking wrong with him.

When the episode ended, he jumped up from the couch, nearly stumbling in his haste to be anywhere but here. 

“You don’t want to watch another?” Cas asked, sounding surprised. He’d clearly been expecting Dean to try to get him to watch more, but he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sit out here for another hour, trying to ignore the tight knot in his stomach and the ache of his relentless erection pressing against the fabric of his jeans.

He moved towards his room quickly. “I’m actually tired, I think I’m gonna take a shower,” he tossed over his shoulder, closing his bedroom door between them before Cas could respond.

Moving across his room to grab his pajamas from his dresser, he paused to lean against the wood, suppressing a groan. It had been a while since he’d had sex, maybe he just needed to get laid and all of this would go away. Obviously, all the repressed sexual shit going on inside of him was seriously messing with his head.

Dean took a minute to steady himself, casually holding his pajamas in front of his crotch when he left the room. But Cas has vanished, probably moved into his own bedroom for the night. Thank god.

Going into their shared bathroom, Dean locked the door firmly behind him, turning on the fan and starting the shower. Stripping, he sighed as he took off his pants and boxers, erection bobbing in front of him. Traitor.

The water was burning hot and he hissed when he got in, embracing the sting of pain. Anything to distract him. 

He shampooed and washed himself quickly, pointedly ignoring his dick, which just refused to go down. There was  _ no way _ he was going to jerk one out in the shower because of Cas. He could deal with this, damn it, he wasn’t a fucking horny teenager.

Sighing, he braced an arm against the cool shower wall and rested his forehead on it, hating himself and the need pumping through his veins. He could imagine it perfectly, Cas pulling back the shower curtain and slipping inside to join him, droplets of water rolling down his flushed naked skin. He’d come up behind Dean and press sucking kisses along his neck and shoulders, reach around to trace his fingers down his chest, brushing his nipples and the muscles of his abdomen before finally wrapping a hand around his aching cock, fist tight and slick with water

Dean choked out loud, the sound deafening in the confined space, breaking him free of his filthy thoughts. He looked down, shocked to see that he was gripping himself firmly, precome leaking over his knuckles. 

No, no,  _ no. _

He let go, disgusted with himself. This was not fucking happening.

Turning off the water with an angry twist, he threw back the shower curtain and snatched up his towel, drying himself off with rough strokes. This whole thing was so fucked up, he was  _ sick,  _ in here fantasizing about his best friend. Cas would never speak to him again if he knew. 

He finished drying and moved to the sink, clutching the edges so tightly that they cut into his palms as he bowed his head. Several deep, shuddering breaths later and he felt like the band around his chest had loosened slightly. 

He couldn’t keep this up. Tomorrow he’d figure out what to do, go pick up a girl at his favorite bar, or take a long weekend and stay with his brother, Sam, try and clear his head… he’d take anything at this point. 

Slipping on some loose sweats, he ran the towel through his hair quickly, tossing it in the hamper and leaving the bathroom in a billow of steam. This mess could wait until the morning, for now he needed to go bury his head under his pillow and sleep away this hard on. 

Dean had every intention of heading straight to his room, but he hesitated in the hallway when he saw Cas’ door was cracked slightly, a sliver of light cutting through the dark of the hall. Guilt washed over him. This wasn’t Cas’ fault and he’d been a jerk to him earlier, storming off like he’d done something wrong. He hated the thought of Cas going to bed thinking he’d upset him or pissed him off.

He was striding towards his door before he could stop himself. Fully aware that his sweatpants did little to hide his erection, he told himself he’d just poke his head in and say good night, throw Cas his trademark Dean Winchester smile to reassure him that they were good.

“Hey man, I’m gonna head to-“

The words died on his lips as the door swung open under his touch, revealing Cas laying on his bed, illuminated by the dim light of the lamp on his side table, naked from the waist up, pajama pants bunched down around his thighs, hard cock in hand.

Shocked blue eyes met his own and Dean couldn’t breathe.

He needed to turn away, back into the hallway and slam the door closed, yelling apologies and hiding in his room until the ground opened up and swallowed him whole. 

But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t seem to look away from Cas’ fist wrapped around his thick cock.

He had no idea how it happened, didn’t even remember taking a step into the room, but suddenly he was at the side of the bed, close enough to Cas that he could see his pulse fluttering at his throat. Cas gaped at him, still frozen in surprise, and Dean saw his gaze flit down his body, lingering on the visible bulge in his sweatpants. 

Arousal was thumping so loudly in Dean’s veins that it made him dizzy as Cas’ eyes came back up to meet his own, pupils blown so wide that the blue was almost completely engulfed in black. A tremble rolled across Cas’ whole body, all the way down to his hand that still hadn’t moved from his erection. 

Dean licked his lips, mouth suddenly bone dry. Cas tracked the movement, something sparking in his eyes, a glimmer of curiosity. His expression almost challenging, he slowly, deliberately, pumped his fist down the length of his cock.

A quiet groan left Dean’s mouth before he could stop it. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t want to stop and think about it, his hand drifting down to the front of his sweatpants. He just wanted some sort of  _ relief. _

Cas watched him, biting down on his plush bottom lip.

“I- I’m not gay,” Dean managed to choke out, even as he slipped his hand down his pants, knees nearly buckling from the pure heat that shot down his spine as he grasped his throbbing dick.

“Of course not,” Cas murmured, his voice a low, gravely rasp that slid over Dean’s skin like a physical touch, raising a trail of goosebumps. 

His hand sped up, and Dean did too, matching his pace. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard, the last time his cock ached so fiercely, pleasure already twisting tightly in the pit of his stomach. The sight of Cas though, his best friend, eyes molten with lust, lips parted from his ragged breaths, spread out on the bed and fucking his own fist in front of him… Dean cursed lowly, smearing precome across the head of his cock with his thumb.

“Show me,” Cas commanded softly.

Dean knew exactly what he meant, helplessly obeying, willing to do anything Cas asked as long as it meant that he’d keep touching himself. He pushed his sweatpants down with his free hand, baring his actions to Cas’ gaze. 

Cas’ moaned,  _ he fucking moaned,  _ a filthy, needy sound that almost made Dean come right there. “Fuck,” he nearly spat, tossing his head back against his pillow, biceps bulging as his movements became jerky, hips lifting as his back arched. 

Watching Cas come apart… Dean couldn’t help but halt his movements, too fixated on the beautiful sight in front of him. He wanted to touch Cas, to feel his thick cock pulsing under his fingers, to know that he was the one making those sinful sounds fall from his lips. But all he could do was watch with wide eyes.

“ _ Dean, _ ” Cas gasped, eyelashes fluttering, chest heaving, and then he was coming. 

He painted white stripes across his stomach and down his hand, and Dean swore that he didn’t breathe once, irrationally terrified to miss one second of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen orgasming in front of him. Coming with his name on his lips.

Cas was panting and moaning lowly as he finished, strokes slowing down, cock twitching, and his eyes finally moved back up to meet Dean’s. 

Almost as if he was in a trance, his want, his  _ need,  _ taking him over completely, Dean stumbled forward until his knees pressed against the bed, reaching down with a shaking hand. Cas didn’t move, didn’t ask him what he was doing or tell him to stop, just watched as Dean flattened his palm against his chest, feeling the racing beat of his heart, the scorching heat of his bare skin.

Smoothing his hand down his chest, Dean didn’t hesitate to move lower until the wet heat of Cas’ release was being smeared across the rough skin of his palm. He locked eyes with Cas, whose lips were parted in wordless surprise, not looking away as he gripped his cock again, slicking the length with his now wet hand. 

Embarrassing sounds were ripping themselves from his throat, little gasps and whimpers as the sensation, at the fact that  _ this was Cas’ cum  _ that he was using. That he’s going to finish with it coating his dick, slick and wet and hot on his skin. 

He couldn’t help but lean forward, bracing his free hand on the mattress, inches away from Cas’s thigh as he tightened his grip around the base, twisting his wrist slightly on his upstroke. He was so fucking close, he could feel that he was right on the edge, right on the brink of the best orgasm he’d had in months, years even.

And then Cas whispered his name, throaty and raspy and so fucking desperate, and Dean couldn’t resist looking at him, and he saw it on his face, how much Cas wanted to watch him come. He said his name again and Dean could hear it then, that he was almost  _ begging _ for it.

His orgasm hit him like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath and tightening his throat.

He was moaning, or maybe that was Cas, trembling and shaking and falling apart over his best friend, spurts of cum streaking across the bed, over his hand, on the smooth skin of Cas’ stomach, with every shuddering pulse of his cock.

It felt like seconds, hours, molten heat pulsing up his spine and through his body. And when Dean was done, somehow so sated, yet his heart was still pounding so loudly that he could hear it in his ears, all he could do was stagger backward a step.

_ Holy fuck. _

Relief and horror were twisting around inside of him as what just happened sank in. Cas was still laying there, a mixture of their release splattered over his skin, his face shocked and flushed. Suddenly, Dean couldn’t stand to look at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, a tight fist of panic closing over his lungs. He pulled his pants back up, stumbling back until he hit the wall, staring at the floor, the edge of the bed, his feet… anything but Cas. 

“I don’t- I- I can’t,” he choked out, not sure what he’s trying to say, his tongue thick in his mouth. 

There was a soft rustling sound, like Cas was fixing his pants or sitting up in bed, he wasn’t sure because  _ he couldn’t bring himself to fucking look at him. _

“Dean.” The way he said it was so soft, almost tender, all of the gravely lust gone from Cas’ voice, and it made Dean’s knees feel like they’d up and left him.

He couldn’t handle this.

Shaking his head frantically, he turned around and thank god, the open doorway was right there, so he fled into the hallway without hesitation. His room was just down the hall, yet it felt a million miles away, each step a struggle while he could hardly breathe.

Then he was safely inside his bedroom, closing and locking the door before falling onto his bed, not bothering to turn on the light.

_ What did he do? _

He'd just jerked one out and came all over his best friend, that’s what he’d done. 

Dean groaned into his pillow, not sure if he wanted to laugh hysterically or cry. He’d never fucked something up so bad in his life, never been so out of control and  _ he couldn’t even deny how great it had felt. _

That might be the worst part, that watching Cas touch himself was without a doubt the sexiest thing he’d ever seen and he’d loved every second of it. That even now, ashamed and mortified, hiding in his room, arousal sparked in his gut at the memory of how wanton Cas had looked, how he’d been the one to take the first step, daring Dean with those fucking eyes of his.

Cas had wanted it, had wanted  _ him.  _

It didn’t mean anything, he told himself firmly, knowing the last thing he needed to do was go down  _ that  _ path. He’d barged into his room, staring at his dick and sporting a very obvious erection. What the hell was poor Cas supposed to think besides that Dean was coming onto him?

Dean bit his lip hard to stifle another groan. What was  _ he  _ supposed to think about this?

He wasn’t gay; he liked chicks for fuck's sake, soft skin and tits and  _ women. _ Not stubbly jawlines and firm, muscled chests, or  _ cocks.  _ Jesus, he’d just gotten off watching another guy touch his dick.

His mind wouldn’t stop spinning, jumping between confusion and humiliation and arousal, the whole mess making him exhausted. His hand was still sticky, and he should really change out of his damp sweatpants, but he didn’t have the energy to move. The realization that he’d destroyed the best friendship of his life felt like it was slowly smothering him.

Minutes went by and he thought he’d be too wired to sleep, too scared that Cas was going to come and knock on his door, but the knock never came and eventually, he felt his eyes starting to slip closed.

Well, it wasn’t like he could make things any worse by waiting to deal with this in the morning. Maybe he’d wake up and realize this was all just a weird, horny dream.

Dean snorted into his pillow. Like he would ever be that fucking lucky.


	2. Dueling Lightsabers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks again to my beta and best friend, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism), who has done nothing but support this fic and yell at me to write it until I did, haha. Love you girl, I blame this trash heap on you <3
> 
> And thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, it's always so appreciated! :)

As it turned out, Dean’s grand plan consisted of avoiding Cas like his life depended on it.

What else was he supposed to do about it? What could he possibly say to make things better?

He asked himself that every morning as he hid in his room, listening to Cas get ready and leave before finally venturing out. And every morning, he came up with nothing. 

Avoiding his friend ended up being easier than he liked to admit. Cas always had the early shift at the bakery, up at the crack of dawn, and Dean had come to learn his schedule over the last few months. The morning after the night of “the jerk off disaster”, as he was mentally referring to it, Cas left as his usual time, but Dean knew he’d beat him home. So he stayed late at the shop, working out his frustrations on an old junker he was trying to fix up. After that, he’d gone to get a slice of pie at a diner down the street, but it was nowhere near as delicious as Cas’ and he eventually gave up, heading to the nearest bar to drink until he couldn’t think anymore. 

He’d drunkenly crept in the front door hours later, wincing at the creak, heart racing, ears straining for the slightest sound. He’d known that Cas had to be asleep, but the whole way to his room, he’d been certain he was going to step out of the shadows of the apartment and corner him. It had taken him forever to calm down enough to go to sleep. 

Luckily, on Wednesdays, Cas volunteered at the homeless shelter after work, giving Dean time to come home, eat, and lock himself up in his room before Cas got home. On Thursdays, he always went to dinner with his brother after work so again, Dean hurried home, beating him there and ignoring the tentative knock on his door hours later. 

He could hear Cas sometimes in the morning while he was getting ready, or the evening when he got home and realized Dean was nowhere to be seen, walking slowly down the hall and pausing outside of his room. He could  _ feel  _ this trembling wire of tension between them, even through the thick wood of his door, and he knew that Cas could feel it too, aware that Dean was in here, frozen and listening. But he never said anything and after a minute, he’d sigh and pad away on near-silent feet. 

It was a vicious sort of torture to avoid his best friend like this, knowing that he was hurting him and pushing him away, but he couldn’t face him. He just  _ couldn’t. _

Dean woke up early on Friday morning, groggy and his mind muddled with half-memories of the dream he’d been having, of blue eyes and the scrape of stubble on his body. He groaned in frustration at his erection, slipping a little further into the hole of self-loathing.

He’d been trying his hardest to not think about it, he really had, but every night when he was aching for sleep, or in the shower or at work when his mind wandered, all he could see was Cas, laid out on his bed, gazing up at Dean like he’d give anything to touch him, precome glistening on the head of his cock.

Dean groaned, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. Cas must have already left by now but he’d be home early because the bakery closed at three on Fridays and he didn’t work tomorrow. Really, Dean wasn’t stupid enough to think he could keep this up forever and knew he should just suck it up and face Cas, talk about what had happened between them. So, of course, he’d gone and made plans to stay over with Charlie tonight, like a coward.

She was excited to see him when he pulled up to pick her up at work later that evening, grinning hugely as she climbed into the car.

“How’s it going, nerd?” she asked, punching him lightly in the shoulder, red hair bright as a flame, even in the vanishing evening light. “And how come I haven’t heard from you all week?”

Dean grimaced as he pulled away from the curb. “It’s been a long week. I’m really glad to see you, though.”

Charlie gave him a concerned look, no doubt hearing the sincerity in his voice. “You wanna talk about it?”

But he shook his head. “Not right now.” He hadn’t decided if he was going to tell her what had happened yet. A huge part of him wanted her advice, to unload everything, but he also had this awful feeling that saying it out loud would make it more real. 

She didn’t press, just like he knew she wouldn’t. “Okay, well, it’s just you and me tonight and I was thinking pizza, Star Wars marathon, and we can finally get your D&D character put together. Sound good?”

“That sounds great,” he told her honestly, feeling the weight on his shoulders ease up slightly. 

All he was going to do was eat greasy pizza, watch some of his favorite movies, and relax with his friend. He wasn’t going to think about Cas, not for one minute.

 

\------------

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Cas.

Together, he and Charlie had devoured almost all of an extra large pizza and made it halfway through ‘The Empire Strikes Back’, sprawled out on her couch with more pillows than two people could ever possibly need. 

Dean was having a great time, but whenever his thoughts strayed, they went straight to Cas and he was really struggling to not pop an awkward boner next to Charlie. He didn’t want to try and explain that one.

Huffing, he snatched up the remote and paused the movie.

“Dude, what’s up?” Charlie asked around a mouthful of licorice. “Yoda was just about to come in.”

Dean shoved down the anxiety rising in his chest. This was  _ Charlie,  _ he could tell her anything. She was one of the most open, non-judgmental people he’d ever known.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he finally got out, adjusting so he was sitting cross-legged and facing her. 

“Ask away.” Though she was keeping her tone easy and casual, he could see her eyes spark with curiosity. She’d probably noticed he’d been off all night, waiting for him to cave.

He wasn’t quite sure how to approach the topic delicately so he just blurted out, “How did you know you were gay?”

Her eyebrows came together in surprise. “What?”

“You know…” Dean waved his hand around in a vague gesture. “How did you know that you liked ladies?”

Charlie laughed, giving him an amused look. “Well,  _ I liked ladies _ . Not hard to figure things out from there.”

He flushed, knowing she wasn’t laughing at him, that she didn’t know what was going on between him and Cas, but he felt embarrassed all the same. “I mean, were you like, debating or conflicted about it for a while? Was there a point that you just  _ knew  _ you were gay?”

She actually thought about it for a second, head cocked slightly to the side. “Not really. I just started noticing girls more than boys and went from there. I didn’t have anyone in my life telling me that was a problem, so I never viewed it as one. And the ladies sure weren’t complaining.” She threw him an exaggerated wink, her grin mischievous. But it faded quickly when he didn’t return it.

“What’s this about, Dean?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling conflicted, even though he’d known that he’d have to explain the situation once he’d brought it up.

Looking down, he picked at a hangnail on his thumb. “Something happened between Cas and me,” he mumbled, knowing his face must be bright red.

“Like what?” she asked, tone teasing. “You catch him dueling lightsabers with a guy on the couch or something?” She laughed at her own joke, but Dean just stared at her and after a second, her eyes widened comically in surprise. “Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Something happened  _ between _ you two. Got it.”

Charlie paused, clearly waiting for him to elaborate but he would rather die before he gave her the details of what happened. 

When it was clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else, she cleared her throat. “Well, I mean, Cas is an attractive guy and you live together, and there’s always that tension between you both, but I figured-”

“What?  _ What tension?”  _ Dean demanded, interrupting her.

She rolled her eyes. “I dunno, just a vibe I get from the two of you sometimes. It doesn’t matter.”

Obviously, she was fine dismissing it but it felt really important to Dean. Did she mean like, platonic tension between two best friends or more like, unresolved sexual tension between two guys who maybe wanted to jerk off in front of each other?

“The point is,” she continued, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “I can understand if something happened between you two. He’s good looking, you’re good looking, and again, you guys are living together, so that probably doesn’t help.”

How could she be so casual about the whole thing? Like Dean hadn’t been having an identity crisis for the last few days.

“But- but- I’m not gay,” he choked out.

Infuriatingly, Charlie just arched an eyebrow at him for a long second. “Gay and straight aren’t your only options, Dean. People can be into more than one thing. You do realize that, right?”

He nearly growled at her. “Of course I do, I’m not an idiot.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Then why are you acting like being into one guy suddenly means you’ve got to start chasing around every man you see? Maybe Cas is just your type and you don’t care that he’s got a dick.”

“Oh, I care,” he muttered to himself. He’d been caring about Cas’ dick a little too much lately. 

But he mulled over her words as she reclined, snagging another piece of licorice, watching him with warmly amused eyes.

“Is that- is that normal?” he asked helplessly. “Just suddenly having the hots for one guy when you’ve been into chicks your whole life?”

Charlie laughed, shrugging. “Who cares if it’s normal or not? All that matters is how you feel. And if you like him, you like him.” She leaned forward, her mischievous smile back. “And for the record, you guys would make an adorable couple.”

“Shut up,” Dean groaned. “This is my best friend we’re talking about.  _ Who happens to be a man. _ ” He huffed out a shuddering breath, trying to digest everything she’d said. “I don’t know what to do about this.”

She took a bite of her licorice, green eyes sympathetic. “I can’t help you with that one. And I know this is hard for you, but maybe you should try doing whatever you think is going to make you happiest.”

“It’s not that simple,” he admitted. “I’ve made things weird between us; we haven’t even seen each other in days. And I’m not sure what I want with this whole thing.”

That was a lie. He knew what he  _ wanted _ , what his body was aching for, had been screaming at him for months, but he didn’t know if it was the right thing.

Pointing her stick of licorice at him, she narrowed her eyes. “Before you do anything, you need to fix things with Cas. He worships the ground you walk on and don’t think I’m stupid enough to think that you didn’t instigate ‘the thing that happened between you two’,” she said, throwing in air quotes. “You’re probably breaking his poor, fragile heart, and that’s on the same level of evil as punching a baby or hating Samwise Gamgee.”

Dean snorted. She’d always been so soft with Cas, cooing over him like he was some adorable puppy and- “ _ Wait. _ Why would you think that I instigated this? Cas is the gay one!”   

“And you’re the one with no self-control,” she countered knowingly. “You always charge into things without thinking, and I love you for it. You default to your heart instead of your brain.” He flushed but couldn’t deny it; he’d always been reckless and impulsive. “Besides, Cas might be your best friend, but I know him too and he would never take the risk.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Groaning up at the ceiling like she was hoping for some divine intervention, she reached out to take his hand in her own. “Listen, I love you, but you can be so oblivious.” She bit her lip, clearly debating for a second. “Screw it. I don’t believe in meddling in the love lives of my friends but this is too painful to watch.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean demanded.

“I’m talking about Cas, you dumbo. He probably fell for you the second you opened the door with your stupidly pretty green eyes and lady-killer smile. Poor guy has been smitten for months, but he cares about you too much to ever make a move. And why would he, when you’ve never given any hint that you’re into guys?” She gave him a knowing look.

He shook his head, feeling stunned by her words. It wasn’t like he was stupid, he’d caught Cas giving him appreciative looks before, but thinking someone was attractive was a  _ huge _ leap away from “being smitten.” What the fuck did that even mean?

Charlie let him stew in silence for a bit, before leaning forward and patting him on the shoulder. “Fix things with him,” she told him firmly. “No matter what you decide you want to happen between you two. He’s been a good friend to you and you owe him that much.”

Dean nodded; she was right, he’d been terrible to Cas, just because he was too much of a coward to figure this out. Tomorrow, he’d go home and face him, try to fix things between them. If he was smart, he’d probably try to figure out what he was going to say, what he wanted to happen, but like Charlie said, he usually figured things out in the moment, thinking on his feet. 

All he knew was that he’d missed Cas like a physical ache these last few days. 

“So...” Charlie broke the silence, a wicked look in her eyes. “Did you see the goods? He’s packing, isn’t he? I had a feeling he was.”

“Oh my god,  _ stop talking.” _

 

\--------------------

 

The next morning, Dean stood outside his apartment door, more nervous than he could remember being in forever. 

It was early enough that Cas should be home, usually preferring to take his time and laze around on his first morning of the weekend. So, there wasn’t going to be any avoiding him if Dean could muster up the courage to walk through the door.

He pulled his key out and managed to get it in the lock, then hesitated. Maybe he should have thought this through better, figuring out what he was going to say. The problem was, he had no idea how Cas was feeling; if he was similarly mortified or just angry at Dean for avoiding him. Or fuck, maybe he was in denial about the whole thing too. 

Dean ground his teeth, turning the key in the lock.  _ Fuck this _ . He wasn’t going to hide out in the hall all day, better to just go in and get it over with.

Yanking the door open, he strode into the apartment, scanning the kitchen quickly, relief washing over him when he saw that Cas wasn’t in it.

Then he turned the corner, freezing in place when his eyes met a pair of wide blue ones. Cas was sitting on the couch in his pajama pants and a worn gray t-shirt, a mug of coffee in his hands, which he set down with a loud clunk on the table when Dean walked into view. 

“Dean,” he breathed, getting to his feet quickly. He looked so surprised to see him and a pulse of guilt shot through Dean’s chest at the thought that Cas hadn’t known when he’d be home or when he’d talk to him again. 

“Uh, hey, Cas,” he said a little sheepishly, heart sprinting in his chest. 

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected Cas to look different; it had only been a few days, but there was a weird sort of relief that washed over him when he realized that he still looked the same as he remembered. Same dark, unruly hair that looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, same ridiculous blue eyes, bright and piercing even across the room, though the dark circles under them were new.

“Can we, uh- can we talk?” Dean asked hesitantly, not sure what his response was going to be. 

But Cas nodded, a sharp movement, sitting back down slowly as Dean made his way into the living room, taking the squashy armchair next to the couch. A tense silence settled over them.

Dean cleared his throat, gaze fixed on his hands clasped in his lap. “I’m sorry, man,” he finally got out, knowing his face was already red. “I’ve been a real jerk these last few days and I feel awful about it. About- well, about the whole thing really. But especially avoiding you, you didn’t deserve that. ”

He could feel that Cas was watching him, this prickling awareness tingling across his skin that was always present when his friend’s eyes were on him. 

“I wasn’t sure how to fix this,” Dean admitted, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m still not sure, but I miss you and I hate that we aren’t talking. Which is on me. I just thought maybe we could sit down and-”

“Look at me,” Cas interrupted quietly and Dean lifted his head, always helpless when it came to his commands. He had a peculiar expression on his face, but his eyes were soft, almost sad. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. I know- I know this is hard for you. But we don’t have to talk, we can just go back to how things were. Forget it ever happened.”

_ I know this is hard for you. _

Like it wasn’t for Cas? He looked so composed, so calm, but Dean could see his hands trembling against his legs, a tiny flutter in the skin of his neck where his pulse was beating. He wanted to grab him and shake him, get Cas to tell him the truth of how he was feeling, yell at him, hit him, whatever it took to make him feel better.

“What happened the other night,” Cas continued, and Dean felt his face go up in flames at his words and wondered if he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either. “Friends have moved past bigger things. I don’t want to lose your friendship over this.”

It was one of the things Dean had come to appreciate about Cas over the months, the simple, honest way that he said things. But right now, it felt like it was cutting into his chest.

But his friend was throwing him a fucking life raft here and they both knew it. All Dean had to do was reach out and take it.

A question rose in his throat before he could stop it though. “So, you want things to just go back to normal?”

Cas visibly hesitated at the question, studying Dean without blinking. “I want,” he started slowly, like he was considering every word before he let it out of his mouth. “I want us to stop not talking or seeing each other. I want you to stop avoiding me and locking yourself away. And I want you to be okay.”

An answer, but not really. He wasn’t lying but Dean didn’t think he was being fully honest either.

But he wasn’t going to push it. If Cas wanted to pretend like nothing happened, then Dean was on board. Any chance to avoid an awkward conversation was a chance he wouldn’t pass up on.

Then why was his stomach twisting with disappointment?

Dean forced out a smile, trying to shove away his confusing emotions. “I’d like that too.”

Cas’ lips upturned slightly in the corners, just a tiny smile, just enough for Dean to see that it was…  _ off.  _ Maybe they were both struggling more than they cared to admit, maybe Cas had wanted him to protest, to insist that they talk and acknowledge whatever this thing was.

But the words were already said and there was no snatching them back.

_ This never works,  _ a snide little voice whispered inside Dean’s head. People pretending like words weren’t said, like lines weren’t crossed, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts, the desire, the wanting. 

But he just sat there, a tense smile plastered across his face as Cas offered to make him a cup of coffee, trying to numb himself to the disappointment rising in his throat and the certainty that he was making a mistake. 


	3. The Maple Bar Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably apologize for this chapter... the donut stuff came to me one night as I was trying to fall asleep and made me laugh too hard to not put it in. I'm sorry in advance for it, forgive my ridiculousness and bad sense of humor haha and huge thanks to everyone who has read, commented, left kudos, all that jazz :D
> 
> As always, endless thanks to [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism), who didn't judge me all for this filthy chapter and laughed at the dumb donut part. Bless you for always supporting my stupid ideas <3 RUB A DUB DICK TIME

Cas had made it sound so easy when he’d said that things could just go back to normal, but a few days later and Dean had realized it was anything but. 

To be honest, things were still going better than he’d expected, Cas slipping back into their usual routine and banter seemingly effortlessly. He was obviously trying, and that meant more to Dean than he could tell him. 

And Dean was trying too, having coffee with him in the mornings, asking him how work was when he got home. He was trying, but it felt like they were stuck in this weird sort of limbo and he just couldn’t break free of it.

The disappointment he’d felt when Cas had offered to just move on, he’d tried to make sense of what that had meant. He knew Charlie had meant well, but he thought that what she’d said might have messed with his head a little, twisting things around. And she’d made him think about- made him consider-

It didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that he was trying to move on, to slide back into their easy friendship, but that  _ ache _ was still there.

Dean laid awake in bed every night, wondering what would have happened if he’d been honest with Cas that morning about how he was really feeling. About the confusion and attraction, the shame and desire currently at war within him.

And he wondered why he couldn’t just make it all go away.

Today, he was home earlier than he’d intended, and he could feel a foul mood itching under his skin. At the shop, he’d finished fixing up a car for a cute, little blonde named Marie, and she’d asked to buy him a drink after his shift, her eyes clearly telling him that getting a drink wasn’t the only thing she wanted to do with him.

He’d turned her down without hesitation, not even thinking about it until he’d turned and saw Bobby, the owner of the shop, staring at him in blatant surprise.

It had hit Dean then that he was an idiot for not saying yes. He always said yes, if the girl was pretty enough. And Marie had been cute, but more than that, she could have been the answer to all his problems, a quick fuck to break this abnormal dry spell and work out the tension thrumming through his veins. 

He’d been telling himself for weeks to just get laid, then a girl practically threw herself at him and he turned her down without a thought.

_ What the fuck was his issue? _

Dean leaned against the kitchen counter, furious with himself and wishing he’d remembered to pick up beer on the way home.

The jingle of keys in the lock snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up in surprise, not realizing so much time had gone by, the soft afternoon light fading fast outside the kitchen window.

Cas swept in through the door, a white box in his hands and grocery bags swinging off of his arms. He saw Dean in the kitchen and gave him a tentative smile, toeing off his shoes.

“Hey,” Dean said, knowing he should step forward and take some of the stuff off of him, but reluctant to get too close. Cas made it to the counter and started setting things down before he could make up his mind. “How was work?”

Cas started unpacking things, his hands strangely graceful looking as they plucked various items from the bags. “Busy but good, thanks. Balthazar is adjusting well and finally not needing me to watch his every move.”

Balthazar was some new guy that started at the bakery the week before, blonde and with a spiffy little accent, according to Cas. He also apparently flirted with anything that moved. Dean hadn’t even met the guy yet and he already hated him.

“That’s good,” he muttered, crossing his arms. Cas gave him a searching look but didn’t comment.

“I noticed you were out so I grabbed you some beer,” he said, pulling said beer from a bag, bottles clinking together. 

Dean groaned in appreciation, swiping one before Cas could tuck them in the fridge. “Man, I could-“ He cut himself off, brain catching up.  _ I could kiss you,  _ he’d been about to say, something he’d said jokingly a dozen times before, but now the words stuck in his throat. “Uh, thanks, I mean.”

Cas had his back to him, shifting things around in the fridge, but Dean swore his shoulders tensed up under his jacket. But when he turned around, his face was perfectly neutral.

“I brought home donuts too,” he said, gesturing to the white box. “Help yourself, eat as many as you want.”

Dean’s mouth watered. He was hungry and he’d been planning on making dinner soon, but one donut couldn’t hurt.

He flipped open the lid, the sugary sweet scent hitting him and his stomach gurgled in response. Immediately, his eyes went straight to his usual; chocolate covered with neon sprinkles. Cas always smirked when he ate them but Dean didn’t care; they’d been his favorite since he was a kid.

Reaching into the box, he hooked his finger into the hole of the donut, ready to devour it without a second thought, when he paused. 

A delicious looking maple bar stared up at him from the box. 

Dean pulled his hand back slowly, contemplating his choices here. His favorite was  _ his favorite  _ for a reason and he typically didn’t bother choosing anything else. But that maple bar was really making his mouth water. It was bigger and thicker than his usual, definitely more filling, and he was starving. 

“You going to grab your donut?” Cas asked suddenly from beside him, one dark eyebrow arched.

“Yeah, sorry,” Dean muttered, but he still didn’t move. Cas had brought the chocolate and sprinkles one home specifically for him, since he never picked anything else.

But that maple bar looked so good, glaze shining in the kitchen light, and he just knew it would hit the right spot. 

“Everything okay?”

“I’m just thinking,” Dean snapped, tone sharper than he’d intended. 

Both of Cas’ eyebrows were raised now. He leaned over to peek in the box, clearly confused by the hold up. 

Dean ignored him. Why couldn’t he just reach out and take the chocolate one; it wasn’t like it was going to taste bad just because he had a sudden craving for the maple bar. 

“I just can’t decide which one I want,” he told Cas gruffly.

“Is something wrong with your regular one?” Cas asked, trying to look in the box again.

Dean huffed, irritation prickling hotly on the back of his neck. “No, it looks fine. I just-” He gestured helplessly at the donuts. “I kind of want the maple bar.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed in confusion. “Then take the maple bar.”

He had to bite back an honest to god growl rising in his throat. “It’s not that simple. I never want anything besides my usual, that’s why it’s  _ my usual.  _ But now I just suddenly want some random fucking maple bar? How does that make any fucking sense?  _ I’ve never even liked them that much. _ ”

Silence settled over the kitchen after his outburst, Cas’ eyes darting between the box and Dean’s face. Dean realized that he was breathing hard, gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that his fingers ached. He knew he was irrationally angry about the whole thing but he couldn’t seem to tone it down.

A few seconds went by and something flashed through Cas’ eyes, there and gone too quickly for Dean to work out what exactly it was. But his expression softened slightly and he took a step closer, on the verge of stepping into Dean’s personal space. 

“Dean,” he said gently, his  _ knowing _ tone making him grind his teeth, blood hot where it was thumping in his ears. “I said you could help yourself and I meant it.”

It was the slightly breathy way that he said it that had Dean looking at him, eyes widening. 

Cas glanced away first, licking his lips. He reached out slowly, nudging the box closer to where Dean’s hand rested on the counter. “You are allowed to want something different.” A flash of blue peeked up at Dean through thick lashes. “Or you can just have both, if you’d like. There’s nothing wrong with having more than one favorite, or trying something new.”

Mouth going dry, Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Were they- were they still talking about donuts?

Annoyance and lust, irritation and desire, he couldn’t tell the difference between what was twisting in his gut. But when Cas tilted his face up, revealing a carefully innocent expression, whatever it was sparked and went up in a blaze. 

“Take your fucking donuts,” he all but snarled, shoving the box back at his friend. 

He stormed out of the kitchen and to his room before Cas could get a chance to respond, before he did something really fucking stupid and hit him or kiss him, Dean wasn’t sure which at this point.

 

\----------------

 

Dean couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning relentlessly in bed, playing Cas’s words over and over in his head. Had he been intentionally fucking with him, or was he really just that oblivious? There was no way he didn’t realize how he’d sounded, right?

Around one in the morning, he sat up in bed, rubbing a hand down his face. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he wasn’t going to just lay around and think about it all night.

He wandered out into the dark hall, closing his door softly behind him. Padding across the floor on bare feet, he made his way into the kitchen and snagged a beer from the fridge. The cold liquid slid down his throat easily, cooling his flushed body.

Sipping his beer, he leaned against the counter, trying to find some peace in the quiet darkness. He wasn’t sure that he could even remember what being at peace felt like at this point, his struggle with himself over Cas feeling like it been going on for ages.

At what point would it end?

The sound of Cas’ door opening made him still, tracking the sound of the floorboards creaking until the lamp in the living room turned on with a click, a soft glow illuminating the edge of the kitchen. Cas appeared a second later, pajamas rumpled slightly, but he looked wide awake. 

Something shifted in Dean’s chest when Cas took a slow step into the room, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of how feverish he’d felt all night, that heat spreading across every inch of his skin like wildfire.

“Should we talk?” Cas asked quietly, chin lifting so he could face Dean head on, like he was preparing himself for battle.

“I don’t want to talk,” Dean rasped. Charlie’s words were ringing in his ears.  _ Reckless. Impulsive. No self control.  _

So he didn’t stop to think when his feet started to carry him across the kitchen to where Cas stood, shoulders getting tenser with every step that closed the distance between them. Didn’t stop to think when he stopped in front of him, curled his hand in the worn material of his t-shirt and hauled him forward to kiss him.

Cas made a small sound of surprise against his mouth and for one horrifying, terrifying, heart-stopping second, Dean could feel that he was frozen, not making a single move to kiss him back.

He started to pull away, panicked apologies already forming on his tongue, but then firm hands were on him, one at his waist, the other where his shoulder met his neck, holding him still. Lips softened under Dean’s, stirring the hunger that had been smoldering in the pit of his stomach. 

Dean cupped Cas’ face, fingers slipping over the edge of his jaw and rasping over stubble as he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste and his scent, something earthy yet distinctly masculine, never failing to remind him of petrichor, filled the air between them.

His fist tightened around the fabric of Cas’ shirt, pressing him as close as he could get as he kissed him with all of the pent up frustration that had been boiling inside of him. Cas’ gasp of surprise turned into a low moan as Dean sucked on his full bottom lip, slipping his tongue into his mouth to fully taste him.

Dean was always the one taking the lead, the women he was with usually more than happy to hand over the reins, to let him dominate and control. 

So it was a surprise when Cas’ tongue pushed back against his own, swirling and flicking, his rough hand sliding up his neck to grip Dean’s short hair tightly, then he nipped at his lips sharply. Something rumbled in Dean’s throat, a groan, a whimper, or a mix of the two, and he felt his already embarrassingly hard dick give a throb in interest.

A surprise for sure but  _ fuck,  _ he liked it. 

Cas pushed against him and Dean stumbled back until he was flush with the edge of the counter, not once moving his mouth from Cas’ as he followed suit. Pressed against the counter, he could hardly breathe, completely overwhelmed and consumed by the things that Cas was doing to him. 

When the hand on his waist slipped up and under the hem of Dean’s shirt, he could feel the tremble of Cas’ fingers on his bare skin.

_ Please,  _ he wanted to say,  _ don’t stop. _

Still kissing him with a desperation and need that stole Dean’s breath, Cas’ fingers danced along his ribs, tracing circles up his chest, mapping out every inch he could reach. And when his thumb brushed one of his nipples, Dean sucked in a quick, shuddering breath, hips bucking on their own accord. He felt the hard press of his cock grinding into Cas’ for a brief second, a shiver rolling down the length of his spine at the sensation.

But Cas stilled against him, pulling away slowly. They were both breathing heavily, nearly nose to nose, and somehow, for the first time this week, Dean had no problem meeting his eyes.

“Is this- is this okay?” Cas breathed, the words hot where they brushed against Dean’s lips. “We can stop-”

Dean cut him off with another kiss, not wanting to stop, not wanting to think; all he wanted was Cas.

He pulled away for a second to yank Cas’ shirt over his head, ruffling his already messy hair, and Dean couldn’t help but pull his mouth back to his own, running his fingers through it like he’d been wanting to do for weeks. It was just as soft as he’d thought it would be and when he pulled slightly, Cas whimpered into his mouth. 

His right hand slid down to caress the smooth skin of Cas’ chest, unable to resist. He’d been dreaming of it, the image of his naked torso burned into his brain since he’d come on it that night. A surge of boldness washed over him and he circled Cas’ nipple, rolling it between his fingertips. 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Cas cursed against his lips, a low, filthy sound, pinning Dean’s hips against the counter with his own, grinding and rolling. 

Dean returned the favor, gripping his hips tightly enough to bruise, shivering and shaking with the friction as their cocks rubbed against each other, the thin fabric of their pajama pants a practically non-existent barrier. 

Leaning back, Cas’ eyes wide with surprise, almost pure black looking with arousal in the dimly lit room, he worked Dean’s shirt over his head. He immediately dipped his head down to suck and kiss his way along the column of his neck, using teeth and tongue to taste him. 

Dean was impossibly hard,  _ aching _ in his pants. He selfishly wanted more, anything and everything Cas could give him, but he needed to know that he was enjoying it too, aching just as badly. Reaching out, he palmed Cas’ length through his pants, some deep part of him quivering at the fact that  _ he was touching his cock _ .

Pressing muffled groans into the skin of Dean’s shoulder, Cas thrust into his touch, rubbing the head of his dick into his hand and Dean could feel his wet precome soaking through the fabric. And when he fumbled around, working his hand under the waistband, only to find that Cas wasn’t wearing any boxers, thumbing his slit and smearing the wetness down his smooth length, Cas bit his shoulder.  _ Hard. _

Pleasure swirled with pain into a heady, intoxicating surge that nearly consumed Dean. Roughly, he tugged Cas’ pants down and out of the way, unable to resist looking down to watch as he wrapped his hand fully around his friend’s cock. 

This should have been a big deal, touching another man, but it wasn’t, because it was  _ Cas _ and Dean just wanted to make him feel good, wanted to hear Cas gasping his name again as he came, the heat of his release on his skin. It should have been a big deal but it wasn’t; it was just need and desire and something softer, hidden in the reverent looks that Cas was giving him, the gentler, slower kisses that he pressed into his skin.

“Cas,  _ please, _ ” Dean rasped as he pumped him slowly, not sure what he was asking for but knowing that he’d get down on his knees and beg for it if he had to.

He seemed to know what he needed though, covering his mouth in another searing kiss as he pushed Dean’s pants down to join his own, pooled on the floor. Still kissing him, he arched his hips forward to rub their two lengths together, skin against skin.

_ Jesus fucking Christ.  _

Dean’s head fell back and hit the cabinet behind him with a dull thud, but he couldn’t feel a thing besides the hot press of Cas’ cock against his own. It was somehow too much and not enough and his hands came up to clutch at the firm muscles of Cas’ arms, desperate to hold onto something, to ground himself against the waves of pleasure.

Panting, he looked down, watching as a thrust sent the head of Cas’ cock rubbing down his length, leaving a glistening trail of precome along his flesh. He groaned, meeting Cas’ eyes as the tight knot in his gut threatened to unravel. 

“I’m- I’m close,” Dean choked out.

Cas nodded quickly, biting his plush bottom lip, and seconds later, Dean felt the brush of fingers along the sensitive skin under his balls, the slightest scrape of blunt nails. 

That was all it took, that and the relentless grind of Cas’ cock against his own, to send Dean tumbling over the edge. 

He cried out as he came, fingers biting harshly into the skin of Cas’ arm, but he didn’t pull away. His awareness narrowed down to each pulse of his cock, each hot spurt as it left his body and the mind-numbing pleasure that came with it. 

When he finished, Cas was watching him, lips parted, face flushed. He hadn’t come, hard length still jutting out thickly from between his legs, dripping with Dean’s release. 

Surging forward, Dean kissed him roughly, messily, no finesse to be found, but Cas didn’t seem to mind. Snaking a hand down between them, Dean took Cas’ erection in his hand, his cum still hot on his skin.

A noise of protest left Cas’ mouth. “Wait,” he breathed. “You don’t have to.”

Dean pulled away so Cas could see the honesty in his eyes, his desire to make Cas feel as good as he did, causing his hands to tremble. “I want to.” He leaned in to press a kiss against the corner of his jaw, his hand resuming its movement. “I’ve got you,” he murmured into his skin.

He felt Cas melt against him, leaning into his touch with a shuddering release of his breath.

Pumping his fist up and down Cas’ cock, gliding slickly down the shaft and twisting sharply when he reached his head, Dean worked him to his orgasm quickly. He felt powerful in an intoxicating sort of way, watching Cas lose himself to his touch.

_ This was what he wanted, to be the one doing this to him. _

“Come on, Cas,” Dean said, not sure if he was pleading or ordering. “Come for me. Say my name.”

Whimpers were spilling out from tightly ground teeth and pink lips as Cas heard his words, cock swelling in his grip, getting impossibly harder. Two more jerks of Dean’s wrist and Cas fell against him, nearly vibrating with the force of his shaking as he came, cum running down Dean’s fingers and knuckles and painting both of their abdomens with every throb.

Cas was moaning out Dean’s name, in breathless little huffs and drawn out whines, leaving his lips like a desperate prayer.

At that moment, Dean thought it might be one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard. 

Heavy breathing filled the suddenly silent kitchen, though Dean wasn’t even sure why he was struggling to catch his breath as he staggered back a half step to lean against the counter. His hand was sticky, release cooling on his skin, knees weak, but all he could focus on was Cas swaying on his feet in front of him

Reaching out, he caught Cas’ arm, guiding him to brace himself on the counter before he toppled over. Then, biting back a groan, Dean reached down and snagged his shirt from the floor, wiping his hands and stomach off quickly before handing it to Cas who silently did the same. 

It should have been awkward, everything in him was telling him that it should be, but he was too satisfied to feel anything but a warm sort of contentment. 

“Are you going to stop talking to me again?” Cas asked, tone deliberately light. “Because I’d like to point out, you started this.”

Unable to help himself, Dean laughed. “Nah, man.” And he meant it. He knew that no matter what happened between them now, he wasn’t going to do that again. Not ever, if he had any say in it. “But can we deal with this in the morning, I’m about to fall asleep right here.”

Cas nodded, pulling his pants up as Dean did the same, nearly bowing over from exhaustion. Apparently, this shit took a lot out of a guy.

To his surprise, Cas took his wrist, thumb brushing against his pulse, and led Dean into his bedroom. Stifling a yawn, he crawled into bed, shifting over to make a noticeable space.

Dean swallowed. He wasn’t going to lie, the thought of sleeping with Cas was tempting but it was one thing to get off with a guy… but  _ spooning and cuddling? _

Oh, fuck it. He could tell that Cas was working up a really magnificent eye roll and anyway, at this point, what was one more thing? He was too tired anyway, he could face all of this shit in the morning. 

He slipped into bed, Cas’ scent immediately surrounding him, soothing his nerves, then rolled so they were facing each other. They’d left the lamp on in the living room, light coming in through the crack in the door so Dean could make out some of Cas’ features. He couldn’t see his eyes very well, but the curl of his lips was impossible to miss, even in near darkness.

Dean suddenly thought that he wanted to kiss him, kiss that little smile that he knew was just for him. But here in bed with Cas, he felt suddenly shy, more naked than he’d been with his pants around his ankles and his shirt on the floor.

Before he could talk himself out of it, and besides,  _ Dean Winchester didn’t do shy, _ he leaned over and kissed Cas quickly, just a soft peck on the lips.

“Good night,” he mumbled, feeling his face go up in flames, thankful for the dark as he turned to lay on his back.

But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas lift a hand and gently touch his mouth.

“Good night, Dean.”


	4. Little Spoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks and hugs to everyone who has read and left kudos or really sweet comments, you guys are the best <3 this has been super fun to write, fluffier than I expected but that always happens to me for some reason, and I appreciate all of the support!
> 
> Once again, this chapter happened because of my stunning beta, [LoveofEscapsism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism), who is honestly just the best <3

Warmth was the first thing that registered in Dean’s mind as he awoke. Warmth and a firm weight slung over his waist.

He blinked slowly, a brief second of confusion hitting him when he realized that he wasn’t in his own bed, before the events of last night came rushing back. Glancing down, he saw the arm resting just above his hip was dusted with dark hair, followed by a broad hand and short, blunt fingernails.

_ Oh. Right. _

Now that he was awake, awareness slowly creeping back in, he could feel soft little huffs of breath on the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck, the heat radiating from behind him. It felt… nice.

_ Cas felt nice.  _

Stifling a yawn, Dean let himself relax back into the pillows, giving himself a minute to just enjoy the feeling of waking up like this, before he had to  _ think _ . Cas was still sleeping and even after his lowest of one night stands, Dean had never been the type to slip away in the morning.

Besides, this wasn’t like that. Or, at least, he didn’t want it to be. 

This thing with Cas… Dean wasn’t sure what it was or what he was doing, but he’d wanted him for a long time, even if he hadn’t been willing to admit it. And this was the first morning in forever that he’d woken up feeling satisfied and content.

But where did they go from here? Dean knew he needed to take a good, hard,  _ honest _ look at himself and figure out what he wanted. It wouldn’t be right to string Cas along or to make this a thing if his heart wasn’t in it. 

_ Make this a thing.  _ What sort of thing could this even be between them? Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies? Boyfriends?

That last one made Dean’s mouth go dry in a flash. Boyfriends meant commitment and accepting that he might not be one hundred percent just into women. And it meant telling the world that too, that Dean Winchester, womanizer and incorrigible flirt when it came to anything with boobs or nice legs, liked dick on the side.

Though, he reasoned, it wouldn’t really be dick on the side if Cas was his boyfriend. That was dick as the main course  _ and  _ dessert.

The urge to laugh hysterically rose within him and he bit his lip. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Thinking of them as boyfriends also brought up the question of what it was that Cas wanted from him, though. Anxiety twisted in his stomach, sharp and sudden.

Dean held in a groan. So much for not thinking. 

He tried to relax, focusing on Cas’ breathing behind him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against Dean’s back. It hit him suddenly, that in this position they were totally spooning and-  _ oh fuck, he was the little spoon. _

Dean didn’t get spooned,  _ he did the spooning.  _

His face was getting hot, he could feel the flush spreading down his neck. Sure, a guy could grind dicks with him but god forbid, he tried to spoon him after. That, he just couldn’t handle.

God, this thing with Cas was seriously fucking with his head. 

Moving carefully, trying to jostle Cas as little as possible, Dean rolled over to face him, a little disappointed when he made a small noise and pulled his arm back, tucking it under his pillow.

Cas looked peaceful when he slept, his hair a dark mess against the pillowcase, his lips parted slightly. Dean hadn’t ever really allowed himself to just stop and admire how attractive his friend was, but now, not having to fear what Cas might see in a lingering look, he was free to do so. 

It felt like something heavy shifted in his chest, pressing on his lungs. 

Cas made another quiet noise, lashes fluttering open slowly. Dean froze, a moment of panic consuming him when he realized that he was about to wake up and find him watching him sleep like some creepy, lovesick teenager. Maybe he could close his eyes and pretend to be asleep, or act like he’d just woken up too, or-

“Dean,” Cas murmured sleepily, blinking in the morning light coming in through his window. “You’re still here?”

It hurt that he sounded so genuinely surprised, though Dean couldn’t really blame him, not after the way he’d acted before. He was lucky that Cas was even willing to give him another chance after what had happened.

“Yep,” he said lightly, propping his head on his hand. “You know me, I don’t get outta bed until I’m good and ready.”

Cas smiled softly, mirroring his pose, the blankets slipping to reveal his collarbone. Dean didn’t think he had kissed him there yet and for a brief second, let himself imagine sucking marks along it. 

“You know,” Cas said, probably noticing Dean’s lingering gaze. “You could just stay in bed all day if you wanted.” 

While his tone wasn’t overtly flirty, his eyes were definitely giving him a less than innocent look and boy, was Dean tempted. 

“Trust me, I don’t want to get up,” he told him, reluctantly pulling back the covers. “But I’ve got morning breath.”

Cas’ expression turned cautious when Dean started to get out of bed, like he was expecting him to turn tail and run. It was a little late for that though and Dean was done acting like a coward. Any discussion they were about to have couldn’t be worse than pretending this didn’t happen and going back to the relentless tension and the constant wanting. 

“I’ll be right back,” he reassured him, and he meant it.

He used the bathroom and brushed his teeth, avoiding looking at the mirror, a little worried about what he’d see. Feeling refreshed and a little more awake, he grabbed a glass of water and went back to the room.

Cas was climbing out of bed as well, pausing to stretch, all long limbs, his back arched like a cat. “I’m gonna-“ He titled his head toward the door. “Keep the bed warm?” 

_ Keep the bed warm.  _ How did he manage to make that sound  _ so _ sexy?

Once he left, Dean set his glass of water on the bedside table then crawled back under the blankets, enjoying the lingering warmth from Cas’ side. He was a little nervous, but mostly he just felt relief that he could finally be honest with Cas and figure out what this thing between them was.

After a minute, Cas came back in, joining him in bed without hesitation.

“Hey,” he said, curling his arm above his head to rest on it. 

“Hey.” Dean wanted to say something else but he wasn’t sure where to start and Cas was just watching him in that steady, unblinking way of his, stripping him of words. It always made him feel like he could see straight through him, right into his head, and he didn’t mind what he found.

He suddenly wished that he could just hit pause and give Charlie a quick call, tell her everything that had happened and get her advice. She was always blunt with him, always helped him get his head on straight. He could really use that right now, his thoughts a jumbled mess when Cas was around.

“I know we’re supposed to be talking about this,” Cas said, leaning in slightly, face open and eager. “But I just really want to kiss you again. Is that okay?”

Make that an  _ extra  _ jumbled mess.

“Uhhhh,” he responded eloquently, thinking that sounded like a great idea but also, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked him if he was okay with being kissed. Cas was always surprising him though, he should have really just been used to it at this point. 

One of them leaned in, or maybe it was both, but Cas’ mouth was finally back on his so in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Dean hadn’t let himself think about last night yet, already too overwhelmed by everything going on this morning. But now, Cas kissing him in such a thorough, enthusiastic way, there was no ignoring that what they’d done had shaken him down to his core.

He wasn’t going to spout some poetry about how he’d never felt that good before because, sure, he’d felt good and amazing and all of those things with girls in the past. 

But with Cas, it just felt  _ different.  _

He’d never wanted someone so badly, never spent so much time pining and craving their touch, only to finally get it. It was that need, and the connection between them, that made this different.

Even this; lazy, soft kisses in Cas’ warm bed, made Dean feel like he’d touched a livewire, sending every nerve in his body singing, alive and electric.

He lost himself in it, the lazy stroke of Cas’ tongue against his own, swallowing down every little moan and pleased noise that he let out. And when he paused for a second to catch his breath, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the corner where Cas’ smiles curved,  Dean learned that he liked the little scrape of stubble against his lips.

There was no rush, so he took the time to explore more, to feel all that Cas would give him. He discovered that if he pulled away teasingly, Cas would follow with a little amused huff of his breath against his lips, closing that gap between them again. And if Dean opened his eyes, sometimes he’d meet clear blue, other times he’d simply admire the delicate fan of dark lashes and how beautiful they were this close up.

He’d thought about kissing Cas’ collarbone earlier, so he let himself do it now, ignoring the sound of protest when he pulled away, tasting the skin of his neck. When he scraped his teeth over the pulse in the corner of his jaw, Cas let out a throaty noise, something between a groan and a whine. 

The angle was a little awkward, both of them lying side by side, but Dean made it work, nudging Cas’ chin up so he could continue his descent. He complied, baring the curve of his throat to his mouth, leg sliding up slightly to rest against his.

Dean pressed soft kisses along the sharp edge of his collarbone, then sucked and nipped, wanting to mark his skin. Cas practically panted against him, one hand clutching his shoulder, fingers digging in desperately. 

Without warning, Cas rolled them over so he was above Dean, bare chests together, a thigh slotted between his legs. Just like last night, his dick perked up in interest at the show of dominance.

He never would have guessed that  _ Cas,  _ awkward nerd, baker of delicious pies, and bee lover, would be the one to take control in bed. 

But fuck,  _ he liked it. _

Cas kissed him, caging him in with his arms. Their bodies were pressed together and Dean could feel the hard length of his erection between them. This wasn’t supposed to be more than just one kiss, but he had stopped having control over his body a long time ago where Cas was concerned. 

They were grinding slowly and when Cas shuffled down slightly to seal a hot mouth around Dean’s nipple, he swore, his heart stopped. He’d never realized how  _ good  _ that could feel, women never bothering to do more than skirt past. 

He swore lowly when Cas lowered himself onto an elbow, their cocks flush against each other now, bringing his free hand over to pluck and roll Dean’s other nipple between his nimble fingers. He groaned, trying to buck his hips and get an ounce of friction against his aching dick, feeling Cas grinning against the skin on his chest as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, teasing him.

Jesus, what was he doing to him?

“ _ Feels so fucking good _ ,” he muttered, and he would have been embarrassed by the breathy, needy tone in his voice, if Cas hadn’t looked up at him, eyes turning a dark velvet blue with lust, visibly flushing at his words.

Slowly, not taking his eyes off of him, Cas sat up, shifting so he was straddling his legs, just above his knees. His pajama pants were tented and Dean wanted to pull them down and take his cock in hand, watch him come in the fully illuminated bedroom where he wouldn’t miss a second of it. 

“Dean,” he murmured, looking so fucking alive and vibrant, eyes bright, pink spots on his cheekbones. “I want to do something for you.”

“What?” he managed to ask, mind suddenly whirling with possibilities. 

Very deliberately, Cas glanced down at Dean’s erection pressing against the seam of his pants, then, meeting his gaze, licked his lips. “I want to taste you.”

If there had been any air left in his lungs, he would have choked. Did he mean-? 

_ Holy fuck. _

“Oh  _ god, _ ” Dean breathed, then caught himself. “I mean, you don’t have to. I wasn’t- I don’t, like, expect you to-”

He wanted it, though. Fuck, he wanted it so bad. Cas’ mouth had always been a masochistic sort of fixation of his; watching him wet his lips, pink tongue licking at his fork, the small smiles and full on grins… it had all been complete torture. The thought of his mouth, the mouth that had brought him such torment and longing, stuffed full of his cock, made Dean dizzy with desire. 

In response, Cas leaned down and mouthed the head of his dick through the thin fabric of his pants.

“ _ Fuck, Cas, please.”  _ The words were just pouring out of him, uncensored and shamelessly wanton. But he didn’t care, he just wanted to feel the wet heat of his lips wrapped around him.

Dean lifted his hips to help when Cas started tugging at his pants, pajamas and boxers gone in one move. He was too overcome with need to care about the fact that his best friend had his dick out in full view, no dark kitchen to hide in this time.

Holding his cock lightly, Cas licked a single, tantalizing stripe up his shaft, hesitating for just a second, letting his warm breath waft over the head. Dean was twisting the blankets in his fists so tightly that his fingers ached, but he couldn’t let go, couldn’t look away. A single, torturous breath went by, then Cas sank down, engulfing his cock in his mouth in one smooth move.

He could hear that he was groaning, thighs tense from the restraint it was taking him to not thrust himself into Cas’ throat, to not grip his hair tightly and fuck his perfect mouth.

God, his mouth had only been on him for ten seconds and Dean was already aching to come.

Cas bobbed his head at a steady pace, sinking all the way to the base before pulling back to suckle at the tip, lips puckered obscenely. His tongue caressed the underside of his cock every time he sank down and Dean was seeing stars.

At one point, he pulled away for a second, tonguing his slit on the head of his dick, lapping up the precome that was collected there. The sight had sent Dean’s blood boiling, a loud ringing in his ears. 

“ _ Yeah, like that, fuck,”  _ he gasped, head pressed back into the pillows. He bucked up on accident when Cas snuck a hand between them to rub lightly at Dean’s balls. The head of his dick pressed against the back of his throat for an instant and he swore, shifting his hips away quickly. “Shit, sorry,” he said worriedly, glancing down. 

Eyes like sapphire flames met his, Cas’ lips still sealed around him even as he paused. That look, it sent a shiver down his spine, cock throbbing against his tongue. Slowly, Cas reached out, taking one of Dean’s hands and guiding it to the top of his head, never once taking his eyes off of him. 

He was trying to kill him, Dean decided, as he tentatively threaded his fingers through his hair. Gripping his dark locks, but not tight enough to hurt, he pushed down slightly, thrusting up shallowly at the same time. Cas moved with him easily, taking every inch of his dick, moaning in encouragement, the sound vibrating through him.

Dean panted, heart racing as he watched himself fuck his friend’s mouth, spit slicking his shaft and dripping down his balls. And Cas, he was following his lead, lashes fluttered closed, hands braced on the bed. The sounds were beyond obscene, wet sucks and muffled moans, pushing him towards the edge quickly.

Movement drew his gaze further down the bed and it took him a moment to realize that Cas was rutting himself against the bed, desperate for some friction. It was so fucking hot that he couldn’t breathe.

A few more scorching, wet thrusts and Dean could feel that he was nearing the precipice, about to fall apart. 

“Cas,” he rasped, pulling his hand away, “Cas, I’m close.”

He was ready to take himself in hand, or hell, maybe Cas would beat him to it, letting him fuck his fist instead. But, to his surprise, he just shot him a look through half-lidded eyes, plunging himself down on Dean’s cock with renewed enthusiasm. 

“ _ Jesus Christ.  _ Cas, you’re gonna- I’m-”

Words failed him as he gave into the pleasure spiraling out from his gut, scorching heat rushing through his veins. He was shaking beneath Cas, could feel his tongue massaging the sensitive underside of his head as he came, filling up his mouth with pulse after pulse.

Weak and trembling, Dean collapsed back onto the pillows, letting Cas pull off of him with a slow slide that made his spine tremble. He cracked open an eye just in time to see him lick his lips, wiping a mixture of spit and cum off of his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. If Dean wasn’t already completely boneless, he would have been then. 

But when Cas’ hand drifted to the front of his pants, where he was still obviously hard, Dean’s strength returned to him in a surge, sitting up quickly enough to make his head spin. 

“You know,” he said, “you should probably let me get you off first at some point .” He looked pointedly at Cas’ erection. “That’s two now and I’m gonna start feeling guilty.”

Cas slid his pants down just enough to free his cock, swollen and leaking. “If you knew how long I’d been wanting to do that, you wouldn’t feel bad.”

That made Dean pause, swallowing heavy as Cas smirked. It just reminded him that they  _ really _ needed to have that talk. But first…

He shuffled across the bed until he was sitting in front of him, watching intently as he pumped his length, slicking the precome beading at the tip down it with his thumb. Cas moved surely, no shame as he touched himself.

“It’s okay,” he told Dean, a bit breathlessly. “I’m already almost there.”

The thought that he’d almost gotten off just from giving him a blowjob and a bit of bed humping made Dean flush, once again caught off guard and stunned by how sexy his friend was.

“Here,” Dean murmured, taking Cas’ hand away from his dick for a second and pulling it to his mouth. He felt strangely stripped down and raw as he licked flat strokes across his palm, tasting the salty musk of his skin. It didn’t take long to sufficiently wet it, though Cas didn’t look like he moved an inch the whole time, gaze fixed on his face.

Once Dean let go of his hand, slick with spit, Cas wrapped it back around his cock without hesitation, working himself quickly. Fist pumping, the muscles of his arms bulging, lip caught between his teeth, he looked undone.

Dean wasn’t going to touch, uncertain since Cas hadn’t asked, but he couldn’t resist reaching out and trailing his fingers up the silky smooth underside of his shaft, watching his eyes flutter from the sensation, cock twitching.

“Let me help,” he told him, curling his fingers round Cas’, overlapping slightly, enough to feel the stickiness and the heat. He guided his hand up his length, squeezing their grip firmer near the tip and loosening slightly on the downstrokes. It was a bit clumsy, no real rhythm or flow to their movements, but Dean had to know that he was playing a part in making him come. 

After just a minute, he could feel Cas tensing beneath him, movement stuttering as his orgasm hit him full force. But Dean didn’t let him stop, adjusting his grip and making him fuck the tight circle of their fingers as he came, hips lifting from the bed as soft cries spilled from his lips.

They were close enough that Dean could see every bit of cum spilling out of his cock, the throb of his pulse thumping beneath the skin of his neck, and the tremble where their hands were still pressed together. He’d thought that watching Cas orgasm had been beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom, in the thick shadows of the kitchen… he’d had no idea.

“ _ God,”  _ Cas huffed, swaying forward slightly to rest his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, breath hot against his skin. He sounded so satiated and warm, that he couldn’t hold back a grin. 

Scooting aside, he helped him lay down, then did the same so they were facing each other once again, bringing the blankets up to rest around their hips. Cas had his eyes closed, making a grateful, pleased sound when Dean tucked the blanket around him. The atmosphere in the room was almost… cozy.

Cas broke the silence first. “Is this weird?” he asked, not opening his eyes.

Considering, Dean took a second to answer. “I dunno, man,” he admitted. “If anything, I think it’s weird how  _ not weird _ it feels, you know?”

He smiled at that. “I suppose that is a little strange. Though, I’ve been thinking about this so much that it just feels a bit surreal now, like a dream.”

Dean jolted slightly at the casual way he just admitted that. Just like earlier, after he’d sucked him off.  _ If you knew how long I’d been wanting to do that... _

“Back up there for one second,” he ground out, knowing there were more important things they should be discussing but he  _ needed _ to know. “What do you mean by that?”

Cas just stared at him, eyes finally open. He stayed silent, letting Dean work through it.

He wasn’t even sure why he was lingering on this but the thought that he’d nearly died after struggling with his attraction for Cas for just a few weeks, while Cas could have been going through the same thing for  _ months… _ he’d been such an idiot.

“Charlie said-” Dean started, swallowing heavily. “I mean, I told her what happened the first time, and she said that she thought you might have… I don’t know, been into me for a while or something.”

The look in Cas’ eyes was so soft and fond, but slightly amused, like he couldn’t believe that he’d had to go to Charlie to figure this out. “Of course I have,” he said simply, not trying to hide anything. “I haven’t been blind over these months, Dean. And I don’t just mean to your looks, though I’m not complaining about those, but to all of you. I don’t know if I ever stood a chance, not from the second you opened up the door and let me in.”

Dean was speechless. There was this overwhelming feeling in his chest that he’d been given something so valuable, but had done nothing to earn it. He didn’t deserve Cas’ affections, to be a focus of his thoughts or a desire in his mind; he didn’t now and he sure hadn’t then, when he’d been dumb and so blind.

“Listen,” he said, trying to scrape together his scrambled thoughts into something coherent. “I’m not sure what I’m doing.  _ At all.  _ You know that I’ve never been with a guy, and to be completely honest, I’m feeling a bit conflicted about it.” He was staring at a point over Cas’ shoulder, a mark on the wall, unable to meet his eyes.

“I know,” Cas said softly. “I’m not judging you for that."

Dean nodded against the pillow, knowing he wouldn’t. “It’s just- it kinda comes back to my dad,” he confessed. “I know that sounds weird but my dad, he was a real man’s man, you know? And I was the oldest son, so I was the one he taught baseball to, the one who went fishing with him, fixed up cars together, and he taught me all this shit about like, how to treat a woman and being a good husband, stuff like that. I- I knew that was the role I’d been put into but I was okay with it. Sammy, he was never into any of that shit, so it meant a lot to my dad to have one son who was.”

“And it’s not that I’m not into those things, it wasn’t a lie or anything,” he continued, struggling to explain. “There was just a lot of comfort, growing up and knowing that that’s who I was and that I was making my dad proud in one way at least.  _ This-” _ He gestured between them. “This doesn’t really fit into that. I just always knew who I was and what I liked and this is way outside of that. I’m all thrown out of whack here and just trying to make sense of things, I guess.”

Cas nodded empathetically, looking like he’d somehow understood Dean’s babble. “You probably feel like you’re disrespecting your father’s memory too, don’t you?”

He glanced up at him, surprised by his question and that he’d remembered when he’d told him his father had passed away a few years beforehand. Cas just gave him a rueful grin. “I’ve been around you enough to know that you tend to drift towards guilt when you’re conflicted.”

“Well, I can’t really deny that,” Dean muttered. “But yeah, I can’t shake this feeling that he’d be so disappointed in me. He wasn’t really a progressive man, to say the least. And I know,  _ I know _ that it shouldn’t matter, but I worried about pleasing him for so long. I guess old habits die hard, huh?”

A contemplative silence fell over them.

“I never told you this,” Cas said slowly, “but I come from a hugely religious family.” Dean’s eyebrows went up in surprise and Cas nodded. “My father was a pastor, my mother a devout housewife. I have tons of siblings and we all grew up with God as the true head of the family. My father actually hoped that I would take over as pastor of our local church when he retired and my mother already had plans for me to marry a nice churchgoing girl… so you can imagine their reactions when I told them I was gay.”

Dean listened, completely wrapped up in his story. He’d never known much about Cas’ family, except that they didn’t speak, with the exception of his brother, Gabriel, who he saw at least once a week. Now he knew why.  

“They threw me out of the house,” he continued, voice deceptively light. “My father struck me across the face with a bible and my mother… she wouldn’t stop crying. That was the hardest part, watching her sob and knowing that I’d done it to her. But, I took the few things I had and went to stay with a friend, thinking they just needed time to come to terms with everything… that they’d never give up their son. Then, the next day, a few of my siblings, led by my oldest brother, Michael, came to see me.”

His eyes dipped away from Dean’s face. “They beat me so badly that I was in the hospital for a week. They told me I wasn’t welcome back home, that since I was already bound for hell, I should just take my life then and there so they wouldn’t have to live with the shame of me hanging over their heads.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathed, rage and pity swirling inside of his. He reached out to cup his face, turning it so he’d look at him, blue eyes filled with old sorrows and the memory of pain. “I’m- I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll fucking kill those bastards for laying a hand on you, I’ll seriously fucking-”

Cas cut him off with a quiet laugh. “As much as I’d love to see you take them on, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Gabriel was the only one who stayed by my side, he helped me leave town and get set up here and he’s all the family I’ve needed.”

If he was being totally honest, Dean had never really liked Gabriel all that much. He was a snarky dick on the best of days and loved embarrassing Cas, always ready with a joke or witty comeback. But now, he could see why, the barrier he was throwing up at the world so they wouldn’t see the shit he’d gone through. He’d turned his back on his family for his brother. Dean made a mental note to pull him aside the next time he saw him and thank him for what he’d done for Cas.

“The point I’m trying to make,” Cas continued, “is that I know what it feels like to live with your parent’s expectations weighing you down and making you uncertain. And it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that the best thing I could do for myself was what made me happy. I’m not expecting you to suddenly change yourself because of what’s going on between us.”

“What are you saying?” Dean asked, warmth rising in his throat. 

Cas leaned forward and kissed him lightly, hand coming up to brush down the length of his arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “I’m saying, this, being here with you right now, it’s enough for me. I don’t need labels, not for you and not for us. You figure things out in your own time, and while you do, I’m here, if you want me to be.”

No one had ever spoken to him like this, with such acceptance and understanding. The warmth in his throat suddenly constricted, making it hard to breathe. 

“I do,” he got out. “Want you to be here, I mean. More than anything.”

Cas gave him a smile, his whole face lighting up. “Okay.  _ Okay.  _ Well, we can keep this between us then.”

“You sure you’re alright with that?” Dean asked, wanting to tell him they didn’t have to keep their relationship a secret but also knowing that he wasn’t ready to tell people yet. “I’m not like, embarrassed of you or anything, I don’t want you to think that, but-”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted, giving him an exasperated look. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I promise, I’m fine with it. We can just take this step by step.”

There was such relief in Dean’s chest that for a mortifying second, he thought he felt tears pricking at his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve having someone like Cas in his life, and part of him was convinced that he was going to ruin it the second they got out of this warm oasis of a bed, but he found himself nodding anyways.

“Okay. Step by step.”


	5. The Meat Lover's Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the last chapter of the smutty, fluffy mess of a fic haha! Thanks so much to everyone who has read this, your support means the world <3
> 
> [DestinationDestiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/DestinationDestiel) \- Thanks for getting this idea in my head and screaming about Destiel with me. I hope you've enjoyed this and don't think I'm a total weirdo for writing haha seriously though, I'm really glad you've liked it so far and I appreciate all of your enthusiasm and amazing comments <3
> 
> And [LoveofEscapsism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism), I honestly don't think I would have done this without you encouraging me so much and being so wonderful when you looked over the chapters. I'm glad my evil plan to make you ship them worked ;) haha thank you so much, you're amazing beyond words!

“You almost ready?” Dean called from the kitchen, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. “We’re running late and Sam’s gonna get all huffy.”

Cas came hopping into the kitchen a few seconds later, trying to pull his left shoe on. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t find my jeans.” He straightened, wearing Dean’s favorite button-up of his, a soft blue color that made his eyes practically glow. 

The hint of a worn, black t-shirt peeked out where the top wasn’t buttoned, and Dean grinned, reaching out and snagging Cas’ sleeve, pulling him close. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asked, fingering the slightly frayed collar. Leaning in, he tugged the button up away from Cas’ neck, just enough to peer down and see what he was wearing underneath. “Huh, I didn’t realize you were such a Led Zeppelin fan.” 

Cas smacked his hand away from his clothes, huffing out a little laugh. “I needed a shirt. Besides, you know I’m fond of them, especially after last Saturday.” A little smirk curled at the corners of his lips as Dean flushed, remembering the night he was referring to, when he’d put on his favorite album and sucked Cas off on the couch.

He cleared his throat, not needing to think about that when they were about to go meet his brother and friends. “Yeah, yeah, okay, keep it in your pants.”

“I’ll try my best,” Cas deadpanned, making Dean chuckle.

Leaning in, he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his jaw, trying to let his scent soothe his jittery nerves. 

It had been a few weeks since they’d agreed to give this thing between them a chance, a few weeks that had been the best that Dean could remember ever having. They’d been keeping it a secret, not telling anyone, not even Charlie, and he had this irrational fear that doing so would jinx it. That things would keep being perfect, as long as they kept it confined in the apartment, to when it was just the two of them.

And this would be his first time seeing Sam since the whole thing started. His brother always knew him too well, read him like an open book, and Dean was scared he’d see what was going on in a heartbeat.

He lingered against Cas a second too long. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching up to stroke the back of Dean’s neck. “We’ll be fine. Your brother’s not psychic, he can’t read our minds and he won’t notice something if we don’t give him anything to notice.”

“I’ll tell him,” Dean murmured. “I promise I will, just- just not today.”

When he pulled away, there wasn’t a trace of judgement on Cas’ face. “I know you will,” he replied, no doubt in his voice. 

 

\----------------

 

They met Sam and his girlfriend, Jess, at a pizza place down the street, Charlie already there with a table, waving at them enthusiastically. They had flown over to celebrate Sam graduating some prestigious law school that Dean could never remember the name of, staying in the city for a few days before they left to see Jess’ family.

Dean was happy for Sam going off to school and everything, but it had been hard to adjust to life without his brother nearby. They’d been close as kids, and they still were, but he missed him now that he wasn’t a quick drive away and it hadn’t gotten any easier as the years went by.

“So, how have you been?” Sam asked, while Charlie and Cas chatted with Jess about some new movie coming out. “You look… well, you look good.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dean grumbled. He’d thought the same thing when they’d parked and he saw Sam standing on the sidewalk, tall as ever, still in desperate need of a haircut, but he’d looked untroubled, arm around his girl, a smile on his face. 

His brother laughed, shaking his head. “You know what I mean. You just look, I dunno, you look happy, I guess.”

It took all of his will power to not turn and look at Cas who was sitting right next to him, separated only by a few inches of booth seating.

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged, trying to look casual. “Work’s been good, nearly finished that project car of Bobby’s. And Cas keeps bringing home more pie than I can eat, so no complaints there.”

Sam’s face brightened. “That reminds me,” he said, leaning over slightly to catch Cas’ attention. “Jess and I wanted to stop by the bakery and pick up a few things to take to her family. When should we come in?”

They started chatting about baked goods and rush times throughout the day, so Dean took the chance to gulp down of his beer, trying to cool the heat settled on the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but watch Cas as he talked.

His eyes were crinkled slightly in the corners with amusement, fingers dancing through the air as he gestured sizes of pies and cakes to Sam. Dean could see where his dark hair was curling behind his ears, the barest hint of his collarbone peeking out from his shirt. He wanted to kiss him for being so good looking and oblivious to how much it affected him.  

He’d been staring for an uncomfortable amount of time, willing himself not to blush as he tore his eyes away. Immediately, he found Charlie staring at him, a knowing look on her face. He ignored her, not giving her the satisfaction of panicking as she coughed out a loud laugh. 

A minute later, Gabriel came through the door, plopping himself down right next to his brother, scooting over to crowd them in the booth. Cas practically fell into Dean’s lap, straightening himself with an apologetic look, their thighs now pressed together. 

“What did I miss?” Gabe asked, grinning hugely. “Sam, congrats on finishing school and being in debt for the rest of your life. Jess, you’re looking lovely as always, way out of his league, but hey, one more act of charity can never hurt.”

“Nice to see you too,” Sam said good-humoredly as Jess laughed. “I’ll go order now that everyone’s here.”

Gabe leaned on the table, turning to look at Cas. “Hey bro, how’s it going? Still hanging around these losers, I see.”

Grinding his teeth, Dean had to remind himself that somewhere under Gabe’s douchey persona, deep,  _ deep,  _ down, he had a heart. Or, at least, when it came to his brother. 

Cas sighed. “Is there any chance that you’ll behave? We’re celebrating Sam’s accomplishment and-”

“Dean!” Gabe exclaimed, talking right over Cas’ words. “Still glued to my brother’s side, I see,” he said suggestively, making him prickle. “Did you make sure Sammy ordered you the meat lover’s special? I know how much you love some good sausage.”

Cas choked on his water and Dean could feel that his face was red, blood thumping loudly in his ears. Luckily, Jess and Charlie were chatting on the other side of the table and it didn’t look like they’d heard. 

Low, angry words drifted over as Cas turned to Gabe, his shoulders a tense line under his shirt, and Dean was starting to feel claustrophobic in his little corner of the booth. He always gave him shit and made jokes, but something in Gabe’s tone had been just a little  _ too  _ deliberate. 

Apparently done scolding his brother, Cas leaned over, shoulder brushing his. “I didn’t tell him anything,” he murmured quietly, obviously worried that Dean was mad. “He’s just messing with you.”

He nodded sharply, heart rate slowing down slightly. “I know, it’s fine.” Shifting in his seat, he brushed his fingers along Cas’ jean covered thigh. “We’re good.”

Sam came back to the table, pizza following a few minutes later. Conversation flowed easily as they ate, Gabe surprisingly keeping a majority of his snarky comments to himself, though it might have just been because his mouth was full of food. 

Dean leaned back to rest against the booth seat, sipping his beer as he looked over the table that seated all the people he cared about most in the world. Charlie laughed loudly at something Gabe said, her red hair clashing horribly with her bright purple sweater. Sam leaned over to murmur something in Jess’ ear, her tinkling laugh so genuine and happy, and she pressed a smacking kiss against his cheek. Their love was so obvious and so  _ right,  _ Dean felt a brotherly sort of pride swelling in his chest.

He caught Cas’ eye for a second, and he saw that he was feeling it too… that this, right here, was all they’d ever need. Nothing could make this moment better, being here with his family and knowing that they were all happy.

And then, Dean felt incredibly stupid.

This was his  _ family.  _ The kind made of blood and bonds and unwavering love for one another; the kind that didn’t break apart, no matter what. 

_ No matter what. _

He didn’t want to hide from them anymore, hide his own happiness or make Cas do the same. Like what they were doing was some shameful secret that his family wouldn’t be able to handle. It was stupid and irrational, going against everything he knew to be true about the people in front of him.

His fear had never really been about them anyway; it was always about being afraid of his own desires, but there was no doubt in his mind anymore that this was what he wanted;  _ who _ he wanted.

He wasn’t a coward and he sure as hell wasn’t ashamed of Cas.

So, he reached out to where Cas was resting his hand on the table, in full view of everyone, and placed his on top.

He stiffened next to him, immediately trying to pull his hand away, sucking in a startled gasp. Dean just laced their fingers together, tightening his grip so he couldn’t move.

Cas turned to him with an incredulous look on his face, eyes wide, but Dean just shrugged, giving him a little smile. His whole body was hot and his pulse was racing under his skin but he didn’t care.

The table was silent and when he turned back, everyone was watching them with various expressions of surprise and confusion, except for Charlie; her face was downright triumphant and Dean knew he’d be hearing it from her later.

Sam was staring at their hands, a furrow between his eyebrows, clearly struggling to put two and two together. After a second though, it must have clicked because his eyes flew up to meet his brother’s.

“Got something to say?” Dean asked lightly, looking at Sam but speaking to the whole table.

The surprise in Sam’s eyes slowly shifted into something else, something warmer, and he shook his head, brown hair flopping around. “Nope,” he said, ducking his face to try and hide his grin. “Not a thing.”

And he turned right back to everyone else, like nothing had happened. “So, like I was saying, I’m checking out this computer course-”

Dean let out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, thumb stroking the back of Cas’ hand in what he hoped was a soothing way. 

His eyes met Gabriel’s for a second, his eyebrows raised comically high, but he surprisingly didn’t say anything, and Dean swore that he saw a brief flash of respect in his eyes.

_ Huh _ .

Cas kept silent, a pink flush spread across his cheekbones, but he was biting his lip to hide his smile and he eased his hand out from Dean’s grip, only to flip his over and intertwine their fingers more comfortably, heartbeat in his wrist pulsing against his own.

And that was that.

 

\--------------

 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Charlie hissed, crossing her arms. Everyone was saying their goodbyes and she’d taken the opportunity to pull Dean aside and chew him out. Though, she’d be a lot more intimidating if she’d get rid of the huge grin on her face. “We’re like, best bros. You’re supposed to give me all the dirty deets before everyone else.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “I haven’t been talking to anyone about it, we agreed to just keep it to ourselves for a while.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You expect me to believe that Cas hasn’t been parading you around as his hot trophy boyfriend this whole time?”

“ _ Jesus,  _ no, obviously he hasn’t.”

Her expression turned impressed. “Wow, he’s a better person than me. If I’d bagged a hot piece like you, I’d be shamelessly flaunting it every chance I got.”

Laughter burst out of him before he could stop it and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas looking at them curiously. “Please, just stop.”

Charlie punched his shoulder lightly. “I’m teasing you, dork. For real, I’m happy for you two. And, I’m proud of you. I’m sure this hasn’t been easy and telling everyone in there, it was brave of you. And obviously meant a lot to Cas.”

Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, Dean shrugged. He hadn’t wanted this to be a big deal. “I just realized you guys wouldn’t really care, that’s all.”

“Damn straight,” she chirped, then patted him on the cheek. “You just keep looking pretty and I’ll keep you around. Us beautiful nerds gotta stick together.”

“If you say so.” He grinned, then saw Sam giving him sideways looks. “I’ll call you later this week, okay?”

She backed away, obviously picking up the hint. “Tomorrow,” she commanded. “You’ll call me tomorrow.”

He waved her off, watching as she went over to Gabe and Cas, wrapping her arm around the latter.

“So,” Sam said, wandering over, hands shoved into his pockets. “You and Cas, huh?”

Dean sighed, tilting his head back to meet his eyes, remembering when his brother had been shorter than him. “Yep.”

Sam considered him for a long second before he smiled, reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you. Cas is a great guy, I’ve always said he’d be good for you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean like this,” he scoffed before he could stop himself. He was tense, nervous in the pit of his stomach, waiting for some sort of backlash. 

But Sam just shrugged. “Honestly, no. I mean, you can’t fault me for not expecting it though, you’ve never really shown interest in… you know,  _ men _ . But I don’t care, Dean. Whatever makes you happy, you deserve something good.”

There was a hot lump in his throat and he swallowed loudly. He’d known that Sammy wouldn’t care, but to hear the words… his anxiety melted away, replaced with a deep warmth. He could live with knowing that his father would have been disappointed, as long as he had his brother on his side.

“And,” Sam continued, like he could read his mind. “For the record, I don’t think dad would have minded as much as you think. I mean, if he could get over me going to school to be a lawyer, he could get over anything.”

They laughed together, both knowing that wasn’t really true, but Dean appreciated it all the same.

“Speaking of,” he said, grimacing. “I didn’t mean to make this about me. I’m really proud of you. You’ve got the degree, you’ve got the girl… you’re making something for yourself, Sammy, and I’m happy for you.”

It was Sam’s turn to shuffle awkwardly now, an embarrassed little smile on his face. “Thanks, man. I don’t want to jinx it but, everything feels like it’s kind of coming together, you know?”

“Yeah.” Dean’s gaze drifted over to where Cas was chatting with Jess. “I know what you mean.”

 

\---------------

 

They said their goodbyes, Gabe having slipped away earlier after expressing his distaste for “that mushy-gushy, lovey-dovey, Hallmark garbage.”

“I was telling Cas that you guys should fly over and visit us next time,” Jess said to Dean, pulling him in for a hug that smelled like something expensive and fruity. “We’d love to have you stay with us, show you around California a bit.”

“That sounds great,” he responded, and meant it, already picturing a day on the beach with Cas, cold beer in one hand, a burger in the other, golden sand and sparkling blue water.

She smiled warmly at him, giving Cas a hug too. “We’ll swing by the bakery tomorrow afternoon.”

“See you then,” he said, stepping back to loop his arm through Dean’s, the movement natural and sending a surge of affection through him. 

Sam gave them a quick wave goodbye and he and Jess climbed into their car, pulling away from the curb and disappearing down the street. 

“Let’s go home,” Dean told Cas, lingering a second until their brake lights vanished before leading him over to the car.

Charlie liked to give him a hard time about taking risks or acting without thinking, but really, it was working out for him well so far. If he’d actually stopped to think about what he was doing before taking Cas’ hand, he probably would have talked himself out of it. But here he was, about to head home with his best friend and no longer secret boyfriend, a huge weight off of his chest.

Neither of them talked on the drive home, Cas just staring out the window, and leading the way up to their apartment after they’d parked. Only once they were inside, shoes off and the door locked, did he turn to Dean. 

“So,” he started, leaning against the kitchen table. “What was all that about?”

Dean could tell that he wasn’t upset, but he’d never really been great when it came to sharing feelings and he wasn’t sure how to explain to him what exactly had been going through his head in that moment.

He took off his jacket, slowly hanging it on the peg beside the door. “I just- I didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore. I’m not ashamed of you or how I feel about you and I wanted them to know it.” Shrugging in what he hoped was a nonchalant way, he went to brush past him to grab a drink from the fridge.

Cas halted him with a firm hand on his arm, stepping in front of him once he stopped. He looked so pleased as his fingers reached up to gently brush his cheek. 

“Thank you,” he said simply, leaning in to press a tender kiss on Dean’s lips. 

“You don’t have to thank me for-” Dean started once they separated, but Cas cut him off with another kiss, cupping the back of his head to deepen it. His lips parted softly beneath his, and he tasted the need on Cas’ tongue.

Cas let out an enthusiastic little noise that Dean almost missed over the pounding of his own pulse, as he shifted to press him against the edge of the table.

He wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his body, and could feel that somehow, Cas was already hard, erection straining at the front of his jeans. His breath caught, Cas’ arousal never failing to send a thrill racing through his veins.

“What’s going on here?” he asked teasingly, angling his hips away to palm at Cas’ dick. He whined against his throat, hips grinding into his touch.

“I’m just  _ really  _ happy,” Cas breathed against his neck, pressing wet kisses against the curve of it, needy fingers yanking at Dean’s collar. “And your ‘fuck what people think’ attitude is a weird turn on.”

Dean laughed softly because,  _ of course,  _ something that most people found completely insufferable about him, Cas liked.

“C’mon,” he said, wiggling out from between the table and his boyfriend. He took his hand, leading him into his bedroom. The last time they’d messed around on the table, it had ended with one shattered mug and sticky, exhausted cuddling on the kitchen floor. 

In the room, Dean pulled Cas to the bed, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, revealing his tee underneath. 

“You look good in my clothes,” he breathed, then laughed as Cas yanked it over his head in one quick movement, tossing it to the side. He got like this sometimes, a frantic sort of energy to his movements and the way he touched Dean, like he thought he was going to disappear under him at any second.

“Hey,” Dean said, catching Cas’ hands in his own and pulling him close enough that he could press a gentle kiss on his mouth, letting his lips linger as he spoke. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

Cas let out a deep breath. He didn’t move for a long second, so Dean nudged him to sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling his eyes on him as he pulled off his own shirt.

“It was your freckles,” he suddenly blurted out.

“What?” Dean paused, about to unbutton his jeans, suddenly feeling self-conscious. It wasn’t that he hated his freckles, but they definitely were a bit cutesy, people’s comments about them usually accompanied by words like “adorable” or “pretty”. 

Cas snagged his wrist, pulling him between his thighs. He looked a little embarrassed by his outburst but didn’t try to backtrack, just trailed his fingers up the sensitive skin of Dean’s arm, all the way to his shoulder and across the freckles scattered there.

“The first time I realized that I wanted you,” he started quietly, fingers stilling. “We were just sitting on the couch, watching something, probably Dr. Sexy- well, you were watching it but I couldn’t stop watching you. I kept looking at the freckles on your nose and wondering if they were anywhere else on your body.”

Dean’s breath caught in his chest as Cas spoke, something warm unfurling deep down.

“Not like, in a sexual way,” Cas continued, smiling softly as his eyes roamed Dean’s face. “I mean, maybe a little, but there was this weird ache when I thought about constellations of freckles hidden under your shirt and across your shoulders. And I realized that I just wanted to  _ know _ they were there, to be close enough to you that I could kiss each and every single one. I wanted that privilege, to know and touch you in a way that most people would never get to.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t remember when he’d started wanting his best friend, he just knew that it had suddenly been there one day, refusing to be ignored or pushed away. As he searched for the words, he cupped Cas’ jaw, tilting his head back so he’d look him in the eye.

But Cas wasn’t finished yet.

“I just-” he said slowly, simply, honesty permeating each word as it crossed his lips. “I want you to know that I love you.”

He kept going, something about it probably being too soon, but he didn’t want to keep it in anymore, that he didn’t expect him to say it back, but all Dean could hear were those three words, rolling around in his head and wrecking his foundation.

“Dean.” Cas was gripping his shoulder tightly, tone tinged with anxiety, and he realized that he’d been standing there for probably too long, not saying a word. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No.” He cut him off, shaking his head, shoving down the panicked, fearful words rising in his throat.  _ No, you’re not. Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t waste that on me.  _ Because this was Cas and he never lied, not to Dean. And for some inexplicable reason, he was giving him this.

“No,” he repeated, softer this time. “Don’t apologize. I just- I’m not sure- I mean, you know-” Cas was looking at him, all blue eyes and flushed cheeks, expression open and tender as Dean struggled to find the words. 

The thing was, falling in love with Cas had been too easy, so much so that it almost scared him to think about. He wasn’t sure if it happened before, in the months that they were friends, or just now, in the last few weeks of being more, but it hit him sometimes, hot in the back of his throat and tight around his lungs.

He wasn’t inexperienced with love; he loved his brother and his friends, and he’d even been in love with a few women over the years. But never before had he been in a relationship like this, with someone like Cas, so honest and raw, so overwhelming and relentless.

So yeah, Dean loved him, and he was  _ in love _ with him. He’d known it for a while and it really shouldn’t have been hard to get the words out. He was pretty sure Cas knew, anyway.

But, he had always been better at showing rather than telling, never particularly eloquent when it came to things like this. And though Cas deserved that right now, declarations of love and pretty words to explain how much he meant to him, that wasn’t Dean and he knew it.

So, Dean stopped trying, closing his mouth to the rush of jumbled words trying to escape. Instead, he grasped Cas’ face between his hands, leaning down to kiss him, to tell him everything he couldn’t put into words.

He shifted closer to him, pressing between his legs as they kissed, slow and deep. Cas made a sound in the back of his throat, rumbling where Dean’s fingers were curled against the line of his jaw. 

“Tell me,” he murmured against Cas’ lips. “Tell me you know.”

“I do.” He ran his palm down the bare skin of Dean’s chest, settling over his heart. “I know.”

They kissed until they were both breathless, though Cas pulled away first, leaning back on his elbows so he could watch Dean finish undressing, then do him too. Naked and flushed, they ended up sprawled out diagonally across the bed, mouths back together and hands roaming.

Flipping them over so he was on top, Cas mouthed his way along Dean’s chest, licking and grazing the edge of his teeth on his nipples. Dean propped himself up to watch him, groaning at the sight of his dark head moving down his body, the occasional flash of blue eyes peering up at him. 

Cas took his time, kissing and tasting what felt like every inch of his torso, then sucking blooms of red and purple along his hip bones. When he finally reached Dean’s cock, aching and leaking precome onto his skin, he only licked hot lines up the length of it. Tongue swirling, he let his warm breath tease around the head.

“Cas _ ,”  _ Dean panted, knotting his fingers in the sheets. “ _ Please.” _

Ignoring his pleas, he just pulled away with a little smirk, sitting on his knees between Dean’s open legs and taking himself in hand. His eyes fluttered closed as he pumped his cock, head falling back slightly to bare the column of his throat.

He got like this sometimes during sex, loving to tease and torment Dean. When he’d asked once, Cas just laughed and said that it was only fair after he’d made him wait for months. He played it off as a joke but Dean thought that a part of him just craved seeing and knowing that he was wanted.

So, he sat up quickly to his knees and grabbed Cas’ thighs, pulling him towards him. He fell back on his hands to steady himself, lips parted and eyes wide with surprise as Dean didn’t hesitate to take his erection in his mouth, sliding down almost to the base in one slick move.

“Oh,  _ fuck,”  _ Cas let out in a strangled sounding groan, thighs trembling beneath Dean’s palms.

Giving his first blowjob a few weeks ago had been a little nerve-racking, but Dean liked to think that what he’d lacked in skill, he’d more than made up for in enthusiasm. Now that he was comfortable with it, it was one of his favorite things to do to Cas, sucking him down and listening to him curse lowly, humming in the back of his throat around his cock and feeling it twitch against his tongue. He loved seeing him come undone from this, the initial disbelief that would light up in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe Dean was getting on his knees for him.

And though Dean was the one with his cock in his mouth, Cas always looked at him with such reverence on his face. 

He sucked Cas for a few minutes, tonguing his slit and then plunging his mouth back down to take as much of his length as he could, bobbing at a pace he knew he liked. Moaning around him as his own arousal grew from the taste of him, the obscene sounds he was making, and knowing that if he wanted to, he could make Cas come in his mouth. 

Only when Dean could hear that he was close, in the breathy little noises Cas was making and taste his precome on the back of his tongue, did he pull away. 

Cas sat up and practically pulled him into his lap, kissing him desperately, nipping at the swell of Dean’s bottom lip and soothing it with his tongue. He reached between them and adjusted slightly so their cocks were pressed together, pulling a moan from both of their lips.

Dean rocked on top of him, clutching at Cas’ firm shoulders as the wet, filthy slide of skin against skin sent a bolt of pure heat racing up his spine. They could finish like this, kissing and grinding against each other, but there was this ache in his gut for  _ more. _

Mouth suddenly going dry, Dean realized what he wanted. 

Over the last few weeks, they’d done just about everything besides actually having sex. He’d struggled with nervousness over it, because he’d obviously be the bottom and the thought of having Cas inside him both aroused and scared him, so he hadn’t made any moves to make it happen. And Cas never pressured him or tried to hint at it, seemingly happy to be with Dean however he was comfortable with.

Last week though, Cas had brought a bottle of lube to bed, drizzling it over their cocks and taking both in his hand, jerking them together. It had been slippery and hot, and at one point, he’d lost his grip, fingers sliding down and brushing against Dean’s entrance. 

He’d immediately apologized, eyes worried, but just the small touch had made Dean gasp, body clenching from the electric sensation. Not stopping to think, he’d asked him to do it again.

That night, he came with Cas’ fingers inside of him, harder than he ever had before. 

They’d only done it a few times again, mostly because they hardly made it to the bedroom where the lube was, but Dean couldn’t deny that he’d loved the feeling. And he wanted more.

Cas must have felt him still or tense up, because he pulled away slightly. “Everything okay?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Dean responded, swallowing loudly. He wasn’t sure how to ask but now that the thought had crossed his mind, he couldn’t shake it. He wanted all of Cas, to be as connected to him as possible and know every inch of him. 

Taking a deep breath, he just went for it. “I want you to fuck me.”

Cas choked out a noise, eyes that rapidly darkened flying to his face to see if he was serious. “Are you sure? We don’t have-“

“I’m sure,” Dean cut him off, nervous anticipation twisting in his stomach. Though he’d been scared, he’d also been thinking about it,  _ wanting it _ , for weeks and he knew that Cas would be gentle and make him feel good. 

Cas pressed a kiss to his shoulder, nuzzling the curve of his neck. “I won’t hurt you.”

He moved away to reach for the bedside table and Dean repositioned himself on the bed, uncertain and excited. When Cas rejoined him, moving between his legs with a bottle of lube in hand, his hands were shaking too.

Their eyes met and Dean suddenly wanted to laugh.

“Look at us,” he teased, trying to ease the tension. “We’re like a couple of blushing virgins.”

To his relief, Cas laughed, the stiff line of his shoulders relaxing. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean grinned, reaching down to traces his fingers up the smooth skin of the underside of Cas’ shaft. “So you’re saying that you’re not flustered at all by the thought of being inside of me… by the thought of fucking me?”

Cas’ pupils were blown up and he bit his plump bottom lip, stifling a groan.

“The thought of sliding into me,” Dean continued, wrapping his fingers around to feel his dick get impossibly harder at his words. “It doesn’t affect you at all? How about coming in me?”

“ _ Dean,”  _ Cas moaned, half needy and half chastising. 

He fumbled with the bottle of lube, and Dean relaxed back against the pillows, always so proud of himself for turning Cas into a shaking mess. A few seconds later though, he was the one trembling and pleading as a slick finger circled his entrance, teasing with little strokes and presses.

He would have bucked his hips off the bed when Cas’ first finger finally slid in, if he wasn’t holding him down firmly. He pumped slowly, and Dean could feel his eyes on him, but he couldn’t focus on anything besides the amazing sensation. When he steadily worked a second digit in, the stretch burning a little, Dean swore lowly, gripping the sheets so tightly that his hands cramped.

Cas fingered him with a constant, easy pace, and when he changed the angle slightly to brush against a spot inside of him, it felt like pure lightning shot up Dean’s spine, sparking in his blood. 

“ _ Jesus fucking Christ _ ,” he rasped, and he felt his dick jerk where it was resting on his abdomen.

Cas just kept going, refusing to be rushed, not stopping until Dean was panting and boneless, precome smeared all across his stomach from his throbbing length. Only then did he pull away, reaching for the lube again. He positioned himself over Dean, turning his face to meet him in a messy, breathless kiss, as the head of his cock pressed against his entrance. 

Cas was slow and careful as he slid in, stopping to slot his mouth over Dean’s and distract him from the slight pain with his tongue and teeth, until they were flush. 

“Are you okay?” Cas gasped, voice strained and body shuddering against his.

Dean nodded jerkily, not able to find words. It didn’t hurt as much as he’d thought, just a bit of discomfort and the strangeness of having something inside of him. But then Cas slowly rolled his hips, sinking back into him, and that vanished.

He’d been thinking about this a lot lately, dreaming about it even longer… how it would feel to have his best friend over him, inside of him like this. And no fantasy had even come close to the real thing. 

“ _ Oh, fuck,”  _ he bit out, overwhelmed by how good it felt, how alive his body was with sensation and pleasure. 

Cas hummed in agreement against his skin, repeating the motion again and again, until he found a good pace that had both of them reaching for something to hold onto, fingers twisting in together and in the sheets of the bed. Dean’s name fell off of his lips with every plunge, over and over, like an endless echo.

He wanted to move, to meet his thrusts and pull him closer, but he couldn’t seem to do anything besides swear and groan, eyes locked on Cas’ face as he pinned him against the bed with his weight and the careful force of his movements. He was so full, every snap of Cas’ hips letting him sink deeply into him, the wet sounds of skin on skin filling the air. 

It was so much better, so much  _ more _ than Dean had expected, and he could tell, from the coil in his stomach and the pulsing of his cock that was trapped between their bodies, that he was going to come embarrassingly quick.

When Cas shifted himself slightly so he was hitting that spot inside of him again, it stole the breath right out of Dean’s lungs. He writhed against the sheets, digging his blunt nails into Cas’ arms, head tipped back and mouth opened slightly to let out the embarrassing noises escaping him.

One of Cas’ hands dropped down to grip Dean’s thigh, keeping his hips lifted slightly so he could keep pounding into that sweet,  _ fucking overwhelmingly good _ spot, not giving him a second to breathe. He could feel his back arching, stars exploding in front of his eyes in bursts of pure white, completely lost in the ecstasy crashing into him and dragging him under.

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Cas murmured under his breath, coaxing him lowly in his gravel rough voice, the quiet words contrasting against the frantic pace of his hips, the rough drag of his length inside of Dean. “ _ Let go, I’ve got you.”  _

His nimble fingers stroked the sensitive skin between Dean’s balls and where he was pressing inside of him, dancing up to wrap around his cock. That’s all it took, Cas’ tight grip and the relentless pressure of his shallow thrusts, and he came with a whimper that ripped itself from his throat.

Dean could feel his whole body clenching and shuddering, toes curling and heart stuttering, falling apart beneath the onslaught of sensations. Streaks of molten heat slicked across his skin, and beyond the ringing in his ears, he could hear Cas moaning and urging him on, never slowing down his thrusts as he fucked him through his gut twisting, lung strangling, mind numbing orgasm.

When he came back down, he was exhausted and beyond spent, dizzy with pleasure and relief, but Cas was still going and now Dean could focus on the closeness, enjoying the friction and the almost unbearable heat of being connected like this. He could feel that he wasn’t far behind, so he lifted his hands to Cas’ chest, scraping over his nipples with careful nails.

Cas’ movement stuttered, losing his rhythm as an absolutely filthy sounding moan tore itself from his mouth. The hollow of his throat was glistening with a sheen of sweat and Dean pulled him down so he could nip at it and taste him, fingers still circling.

“C’mon, Cas,” he said, his turn to entice him into his orgasm. “I wanna feel you-  _ Jesus, Cas- _ ”

He lost his train of thought, words drying up on his tongue as Cas’ grip tightened, fingers digging into the flesh of his waist and thigh, clinging to him as he came, all throbbing, pulsing warmth and open-mouthed gasping. The look on his face, the raw, unrestrained euphoria, red flush creeping up his neck and across his jaw, eyes fluttering closed… he was  _ beautiful.  _

After a minute filled with heavy breathing, of slowing heartbeats and clumsy touching, Cas pulled himself free of Dean, groaning and collapsing next to him in bed. There was a strange feeling of emptiness, but he just stretched his aching legs and then rolled to curl up next to Cas, too tired and content to give it more than a passing thought. 

“Well,” he said sleepily, running a hand along Cas’ sweaty chest. “I guess I get why chicks enjoy that so much.”

Cas laughed against him, shaking the bed slightly. “Dean… you do realize that those are two completely different things, right?”

“Shhhh.” 

He was rolling his eyes, Dean could feel it; he’d developed a sixth sense for it at this point. But Cas just grumbled affectionately under his breath, and wrapped an arm around him to shift him closer.

They laid together in a comfortable silence, breathing evening out and sweat drying on their skin. Dean had this weird nagging feeling in his gut, like he should thank Cas for that, but that would just be weird, right? Who thanked someone after sex? 

It wasn’t just the sex, though that had been undeniably amazing. It was also just the whole day; the rush of sharing their relationship with everyone and Cas being so pleased about it, and the things he told Dean after, things that were still sinking in. It was the way that he’d been so careful and gentle, always so focused on making sure that Dean felt good, like his pleasure and enjoyment was the most important thing. 

And it was the way that he was holding him now, warm and secure, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And that Dean knew he’d get countless more nights like this.

“Hey,” he started slowly, something hot settling in the back of his throat as Cas turned to look at him, curious and sleepy. “I just- I wanted to say- this was… nice. This and us. It’s, well, it’s more than nice. It’s great, actually.” He wanted to hit himself and the ridiculous words coming out of his mouth. “I’m just really happy, Cas. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.”

A small smiled curled at the corners of Cas’ lips, the one Dean liked to think was reserved just for him. “Dean Winchester, a poet in bed. Who would have guessed?”

He let out a huffing laugh, slinging his arm over his face in embarrassment. “Shut up, you know I’m bad at this shit.”

Cas chuckled, pulling his arm away so he could look him in the face, blue eyes warm and affectionate. “I shouldn’t tease, I’m sorry. I know what you mean and I’m happy too.” He pressed a soft kiss over the freckles on the bridge of Dean’s nose. “I think we’ve got this.”

Every part of Dean sang in agreement, and he grinned, making a promise to himself right then that he was not going to mess this up.

“Yeah, Cas, we’ve got this.”


End file.
